Walker Bass

Unlikely Grace 


What’s beautiful about a plastic sack?  
Like that one waltzing between 
parking lot and road.  It’s all sashay 
and sway, mouth agape, body inflated; 
it gives air form, reveals currents’ do-si-do.
Molted skin of a grocery run, cast-off 
of loose fingers and a careless soul,
it lifts with its unlikely grace.


Picture a fist-laden father 
with ever-ready anger, his tongue 
as sharp as his mind.  What’s beautiful 
about him now?  Mouth as slack as 
his hands, he no longer offends, is quiet 
for long stretches.  In his dwindle, he emotes 
only love.  A family long wary of his venom
approaches with tenderness.


On the greenway this morning,
grass blades finger 
around a raccoon’s dark, seed-studded dung.  
On top, three Monarchs, the long sails 
of their amber wings folded
into cathedral windows.


Walker Bass received a certificate from the Writer’s Loft (MTSU) in January, 2013, where Jeff Hardin and Kory Wells were his mentors. Walker currently works as a caregiver for his father-in-law. From 2008 to 2010 he ran a neighborhood soup business – taking orders, making and delivering soup. Walker has “thru-hiked” the Appalachian Trail twice. Besides writing, he also studies and practices Mindfulness. His work has been published in Blast Furnace, Number One, Third Wednesday and Nashville Arts Magazine. He and his wife live in Nashville.


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