I did not run away
            I walked away by daylight
      
                         —Sojourner Truth

The hour  I  ran  out
on   my   bondage  I
didn’t                  run.
The        sun       was
Shining        in     its
Sunday’s           best,
beating its coat
on   my   coat.   This
heat   produced  my
sweat,    not      swift
feet.   My      haircut,
new.    &     my    hat
wore ribbons
fit        a          church
frontrow.  A   day  so
ordinary who  could
guess
what       I      walked
away    from?    How
could   I   be  anyone
but me,
with   my   name   in
my  teeth?   My  feet
gliding  under   each
detective’s   lowered
brim.    The   bounty
on my head
higher    than   hawk
circles.

The  night I walked
out   on  my  master
is  when   I   learned
I  was   serving  one.
The    same     molar
chiding  my  cheeks
a   mole    engorging
silence.    My     first
spy   the    dream  in
my
brain    entrenching
ownership.   I spent
12,000              treks
thinking my
moves   were     my
own  until   I  found
road stretching out
of  a  forest I hadn’t
even    seen    grow.
When I arrived
at    the     brush   &
flatland    I     knew
where   I had   been
had  not  been mine,
but   a  life   for   my
first love.    The first
who      gave        my
selfness   a    ceiling.
How  could   I  have
not     chosen      my
maker before
choosing myself?

The night I walked
out  on   my  master
wasn’t night
at    all.     Freedom
made the day
ordinary  in  a   new
way.   How    for    a
fish water is never
new,  just  a  change
between       bodies.
But if      a       child
exits
my  chute  gravity is
law,      &        down
becomes                 a
direction.
The first time my
feet touched floor I
learned the bottom.
After,
I  took  my  legs  &
forged      a       path
between  a  past   &
Jupiter.
Now    time     can’t
touch   me   &   I’m
where     water     is
always fresh
though  it pains like
we do.   Where pine
trees grow w/ no
hunting   season   is
where I am headed.
A  compass  w/   no
map   is   the   stars.
Find your way.  If  I
told       you        the
address
It  wouldn’t   be   a
secret.

Copyright © 2024 by Nabila Lovelace. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on August 14, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets.