(no subject)
spring eventually came. and brought with it a warming sun. one that had almost been forgotten. like the face of a lover from long ago. your time with her had been compact, and intense. when goodbyes found their way to the separating point, you knew her face well. it was burned in your memory. which, ironically enough, was the very reason you hardly looked at her at all near the end. she's gone now. and you no longer know where to place her eyes. or if the dimples around her mouth even existed. it makes you wonder whether or not you would be able to recognize her if she walked through your door now.
that spring, as with every spring, the sun walked back in. all the snow melted. birthing forth water levels that brought nearly as much destruction as the snow from the prior months. rivers raised. creek beds swelled. things weren't just full, they were over-flowing.
the park near my house, the one that i frequented in the milder seasons; with the swings and the stream had been overtaken. submerged. pools of water settled in the fields i was accustomed to laying in. the water reached out with everything it had, and nearly touched the lower beam of the covered bridge. that water hadn't settled. it rushed. surged. it seemed defensive, as if to state that it would not go quietly. it was making a place for itself. this water called to me. it drew steps from my body. someone had placed an old picnic table out into the stream flow. not nearly to the middle (the current would have certainly taken it by now) but far enough out so that no part of the legs were visible.
i was already wet. my boots were filled with water. my pants had consumed so much moisture that i could feel their heaviness. it pulled. i was cold. but not tired. nor deterred from my task at hand. i needed to get to that table. if i trudged my way over to the bridge i could slip through one of the open window frames. the table stood right underneath.
...that's all i've got so far.
that spring, as with every spring, the sun walked back in. all the snow melted. birthing forth water levels that brought nearly as much destruction as the snow from the prior months. rivers raised. creek beds swelled. things weren't just full, they were over-flowing.
the park near my house, the one that i frequented in the milder seasons; with the swings and the stream had been overtaken. submerged. pools of water settled in the fields i was accustomed to laying in. the water reached out with everything it had, and nearly touched the lower beam of the covered bridge. that water hadn't settled. it rushed. surged. it seemed defensive, as if to state that it would not go quietly. it was making a place for itself. this water called to me. it drew steps from my body. someone had placed an old picnic table out into the stream flow. not nearly to the middle (the current would have certainly taken it by now) but far enough out so that no part of the legs were visible.
i was already wet. my boots were filled with water. my pants had consumed so much moisture that i could feel their heaviness. it pulled. i was cold. but not tired. nor deterred from my task at hand. i needed to get to that table. if i trudged my way over to the bridge i could slip through one of the open window frames. the table stood right underneath.
...that's all i've got so far.