Yosemite, post-knee surgery
The breeze brushes across my
face; a concerned mother’s caress.
Mountains, soldiers protecting
the land, glance back at me.
The sun glints off the metal
handrails—a constant reminder
of human interference. I shift,
and try to emulate the broad shoulders,
sharp jawlines of those stoic
warriors. But I cannot raise
my chest high enough,
for how can one be a fighter
trapped by crutches under each
arm; chafed skin revealing my
soft exterior? I relent, instead gaze
towards deep trenches hidden
among each rank, where
battles continue to rage on—
faint roadways cutting into trees
like scratches on well-worn armor.
Footprints spread slowly like a disease.
Alexandria Wyckoff is a junior at SUNY Oswego, where she spends her time reading, jamming out to music, and coming up with new stories to tell. She is from Gilboa, NY and aspires to work in the publishing industry after graduation.