Wednesday, April 17, 2013

At the Pole of Inaccesability

They sit on the swing
That hangs from the porch
That is covered by the honeysuckle
Underneath that Georgia sky
They do not swing back and forth
They do not say a word
They do not touch
They do not look
They are there together
And they are alone
She looks sideways to her mother
She traces the proud profile
She sees her own face's shadow
She sees deep laugh and tear lines
And she cannot help but wonder
What goes on inside her head
She thinks to ask the woman
But she knows she will never get in
Her mother stands on the ocean
The waves do not wet her skirt
The wind billows her shawl behind her
The sun kisses her skin
And she strides amid the breakers
She makes her way between the foam
She steps backward further
Going deeper and farther from the shore
And her daughter stands on the shoreline
And she strains her neck for a view
She wishes she could go in the water
And she wishes she knew what to do
Because her mother keeps going deeper
And the waves are gaining in size
She is stuck on the sandbar
And cannot walk on water no matter how hard she tries
There is a place out in the ocean
It is called a pole, of sorts
From where you are the farthest from land
From where you lose sight of the shores
And this place is like a whirlpool
Like a blackhole drawing her mother in
And she knows that she cannot follow
And she suspects someday she'll begin
To learn to walk on the waters
To learn to sit on a still swing
To learn to look at her loved ones
From the other side of a glass room
To place herself on a pedestal
To take on the cares of everyone
And be alone and still not ever
To live inside her own panopticon
She shivers there on the swing set
Even though its a humid, Georgia day
There below the grey skies
Below the honeysuckles
Below her mothers lovingly hard gaze

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