Clear Water

Ray and Tanya were comfortable together. At dinner Ray would hold Tanya's chair and look at her when she talked. He seemed interested and sweet. Tanya smiled  and also seemed to return Ray's interest. From a distance they looked like a happy couple that were still getting to know each other. This is how they wanted others to see them. The plan was simple.  Be somewhere public but act in a way that a casual viewer would just see their behavior, disregard and pass over their table for something of more interest. Ray and Tanya wanted to blend in among the sea of people. Ray would say, "let's be two drops of water in this glass", looking at the glass of water the waiter just filled. Tanya would then say, "how about the ocean...that glass in little tiny.."
 
They would smile after this exchange and begin the conversation their handlers had planned for the evening. 

Translucent

What is within and what is outside. Hands within bird cages, twigs and clouds.  Horizons behind tables, chairs, wallpaper tea and blood. A far off whistle blows and the window pane begins to tear from the frame of the house. 

The children watch as the sky begins to clear and the parents turn to talk. 

Mae

The sisters arrived at the party. Mae didn't seem to notice their arrival but the boys in her group had eyes locked. Everyone noticed except Mae. Mae couldn't be seen looking at anything outside her world. What was in and outside her was a distinction she never made. The world was hers and no others.

When the Children Sleep

Time sits and watches when the children sleep. The water settles around the spoon in the sink. The dog lays on the couch. Ideas once silent begin whispering in the back of the mind.

Tell me something that I haven't heard.

The drip from an eave.

The click of a wrist.

The children are quiet the house sleeps.

Where to begin...

Remind me what the plan was the candle has melted and the family is asleep. Do we wait for the wind or the rain. Down the street the Chesner family is building telescopes that will be attached to daisy cutters. Milk is left to ferment. The towns last elm is being cut down as the ladies sip tea over their last game of bridge.

Split

The anger is what he held. It wasn't the warm days upstate or the quiet nights by the river. Christopher held onto the anger that through years of neglect had managed to slowly twist around his neck to the point where he couldn't tell if it was the anger or the pain of breath that consumed his mind.

Small evergreens lined up against a wall. All the memories could not lead him to sit at the table lined with friends.

Bitter pills sit near the bowl. The time has come to begin fixing what has been broken.
The pencils are in a box beneath the bed. The chalk is clever and content to melt in the rain. Christopher bites down on his sandwich and imagines splitting the hemispheres with his teeth.

Plath

The anger rose up over his shoulders just around his neck to where he felt like he wouldn't be able to speak. Clouds began to circle the sky. The last punch cracked something in his left side. He was furious he let himself be provoked into a fight. The scream inside came from the  sea met the land and rolled to the edge of the woods where it shook the crows from there sleeping perch. 

Pa L and Bilbee

 The farm house was miles off and the water had been gone for hours. Bilbee the dog decided to just take cover under the canvas tarps as little sister L tried to get comfortable with four fists of hay.

Dust rose from the prairie into the light of an early July morning. 
Pa  rode a ways ahead keeping a keen look out. He said we couldn't afford another night like the last. From now on
" you shoot first and we'll then get the shovel if need be..."

I Can't Seem to Find the Words.

I have imagined this playing out, but there is something blocking my view. Three people are in the room. The walls are a slate grey. A wooden bench has been smashed against the far wall. The three are talking. 

I have imagined this turning into a kind of answer to the questions the last ten years have asked. Sheets of rain strike the roof and rattle the room. 

I can't seem to understand  what anyone is saying. I hear a far off siren. The rain is beginning to slow. The three continue to talk, but I am no closer to understanding what needs to be said. 

Loudspeakers

When I look down the hall all I see is the shine of wax. Wax under feet. Wax on apples. The shine of counter tops. 
Windows and rain lead and chips.  Desks chairs and bowls of candy. I see shiny shells. Nails. Red. Yellow. Green.