Coming down a sidewalk
you hear a bicycle bell,
you jump out of the way.
Bells work well sometimes.
Whistles, however,
could be for someone more deserving.
There was a fire alarm at my office
but it wasn't true and we kept working.
Anyway, every day is the last day
I can wake up like this.
I remember tennis the time with you
we went to two different courts.
Walking to one I said bicycle bells
always sound personal and you agreed.
This morning I wonder if you understood.
Because how could you have understood
and be gone now?

Brooke Harries’s work has appeared in Salamander, Sixth Finch, Laurel Review, and elsewhere. She has an MFA from the University of California Irvine and is a PhD student at the University of Southern Mississippi, where she serves as Associate Editor for Mississippi Review.