Dream of My Brother inside a Painting in Motion

Julie A. Cox
| poetry


—Christopher, 1974–1995

We’re walking on the interstate
at night, in a downpour
that leaves us dry

Pushing through slashes
of lacquered acrylic, pressed back
by a wind I can’t feel

In the rain, the lamplight slithers
strips of light, glowing jump ropes
that skitter for distances

This highway is nearly free
of traffic but for us and the blank stares
of surrounding puddles

You say your new home is OK,
I should see it someday, and then laugh
in a relaxed way I don’t recognize

Too soon you wave good-bye, your arm
sweeping an arc as if wiping clean
some glass barrier between us

Then you’re gone, the pavement
goes splotchy newsreel, and I wake
to aching sunlight, wanting to document

Julie A. Cox received her MFA in creative writing from the University of Minnesota, where she was awarded the Edelstein-Keller Fellowship in poetry. She has been a finalist for the Loft Mentorship series and the Writers at Work Competition. Her poems have appeared in American Literary Review, Cream City Review, Hanging Loose, Juke Joint Magazine, Water~Stone, and elsewhere.