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06 October 2009 @ 02:47 am
Quickening her step, the grad student hurries from under red oak darkness to mercury vapor light, but
The whispers don't recede.
Her shadows crawl under her shoes, but
The faces don't dissolve.
She clenches her fists on her purse string, her key ring.
She closes her eyes, hoping that when she opens them

Both Jimmie's and her shoes were already soaked, so they took them off and waded through the creek barefoot.
Green on rocks, toes slide over - cool water to her ankles, under the cuffs and up her calves.
Jimmie was so serious, looking for the fossil he'd seen the day before.
She didn't care as long as he took her with him.
He spoke - frustrated - the roots covered the part of the bank where he'd seen it.
She laughed as her foot slipped off of the higher bed, but there was sand to catch it.
Her jeans wet to her knees, the coolness crawling in between them.
A yelp that startled her - Jimmie thrashing, then still - he'd found it.
She waded closer, deeper, to see.
Jimmie - without moving aside - pointed to a large, dull stone jutting from the bank
In the shadow of the tree's roots.
The roots under the water brushed her now soaked waist, but
Jimmie's smile was too bright for them to follow the cool water in.
He turned and began tearing at the brown earth now two feet below the grass.
She hadn't time to see what the stone was before he got in the way.
She pulled away from the roots, a hand strangely lifting from the water
To wet the back of Jimmie's Ocean Pacific shirt.
Oblivious, he scratched and pulled, his arms stronger than they looked in school.
She caressed his warmth, his backbone, his muscles moving under his shoulders.
Jimmie fell back with a yelp as different from the first as
His open mouth was from his smile.
The stone, pieces of earth still clinging, hit the water at the same time
Jimmie's body pushed her hand aside and
Slid beneath the wave it made.
For a breathless moment, she saw Jimmie's eyes wide,
Moving in ways only water moved, but
They were too bright.
When she opened her own, below the water, still wavering from the disturbed surface,
A large stone sat on the sandy bottom.
Although she could see between the shadows of the roots that he had found what must have been the largest snail which had ever lived,
Jimmie was gone.
In all the places within her where his warmth had touched, the cool water flowed.

at least one of the faces would be his.
Current Mood: weirdweird
Current Music: Led Zeppelin - Bron-Yr-Aur
ext_210076 on October 15th, 2009 04:11 pm (UTC)
somehow stumbled on your site, and I have to say this is good. did you write it?

rogerdrrogerdr on October 16th, 2009 02:38 pm (UTC)
All mine. Feel free to look through the rest (and try not to laugh).
TC_Andersontc_anderson on October 16th, 2009 11:21 pm (UTC)
This is really really good! I've been trying to make time to check out your stuff, and keep telling myself "I'm too busy." But I'm glad I did, this is wonderful. I'm a little envious actually. I can't write poems, or anything under a couple thousand words.
rogerdrrogerdr on October 17th, 2009 04:15 pm (UTC)
They are usually half-considered mixtures of thoughts for me. You'll probably not see any sense at all in some of them. I have no regular set of subjects, and often just let my vocabulary go wild. I wouldn't call any of them worthy of publishing, because I don't spend much time on them (except for the really old ones from high school and college).
TC_Andersontc_anderson on October 18th, 2009 12:15 am (UTC)
Well, they seem great to me. Though a few have required a several read-throughs to fully grasp the concept, but that's poetry for you. It's a form of abstract art in my opinion. What it means to one person is entirely different from what it means to another.
rogerdrrogerdr on October 18th, 2009 10:51 am (UTC)
You said "from"! That made my day.
TC_Andersontc_anderson on October 18th, 2009 03:31 pm (UTC)
I have been known to occasionally pay attention. Occasionally! I don't want this to set the standard.