Peter’s Body

(formerly identified as “Gordon”) c. 1863 Albumen silver print

Each time I see Peter’s long, dark back crisscrossed 
     with keloids, I run my fingers along the ridges 
where his flesh came back together and over-mended 
     after having been ripped by an overseer’s lash. 
His healed back a type of abstract expressionism. 

Peter has fever for days after his whipping, even after 
     his master fires the overseer for excessive cruelty, 
but it didn’t stop him from wanting to run.

He rubs cut onion on his skin to prevent the dogs 
     from tracking him. Then runs ten days shoeless
heading North until he finds Union soldiers black as he 
     and collapses.

Each time I see Peter’s back, the vision startles me. 
     Then I think of all the men and women with similar marks 
whose scars weren’t recorded for posterity, whose images 
     weren’t reproduced a hundred-thousand times, 
like trading cards, by abolitionists to raise money for the cause.

ELLEN JUNE WRIGHT

Ellen June Wright is an American poet with British and Caribbean roots. Her work has been published in Plume, Tar River, the Missouri Review, Verse Daily, Gulf Stream, Solstice, and other journals. She’s a Cave Canem and Hurston/Wright alumna and has received Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominations.