By Laurel Ahlfeld Date: 2005 Apr 12 Comment on this Work [[2005.04.12.12.24.32298]] |
When I see her at the swimming party she does not bother with the gossip. She stands tall by herself, hiding the beauty of her words, wrapped in a towel of silence. The others strip to their suits with primal haste but she stands still, watching with nouns and verbs waiting patiently in her mind to be penned between the blue of notebook lines. The others dive into the water, filling her tongue with splashes of adjectives and gallons of adverbs. The rhythms of their diving bodies form stanzas all around her while the laughter of the others sounds to her as if it were lapping against the sides of the pool in poetic rhymes. She carefully lays down her wrap as the others beckon her to join in the poem they'll never know they created. Her hand is taken by another's, fingers locking into a beautiful contraction. They leap together and her laughter joins in with the rhyme of the others. Yet when she climbs out, shimmering drops of water fall away from her as she walks- a trail of chlorine cursive already beginning to write the silence she wraps again within her towel. |