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Accidental
I thought the screech of voice and bike tires
must mean an accident, but it was only love--
one teen-aged boy leaping over the handlebars
into the black t-shirted arms of her embrace,
his jeans slung fashionably beneath his hips.
Style does everything by design, but love is accidental,
those collisions that happen when we've given up hoping,
stopped looking both ways.
Sibyl James has taught in the U.S., China, Mexico, and Tunisia. Her books include In China with Harpo and Carl, and The Adventures of Stout Mama.
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