July 16 (Again)

Tonight I am tired of being worked over with words, but this prompting came from ReadWritePoem:

Usually such grumpiness about words means I did a respectable job. Not sure about that, still too cranky.

= = = = = =

JULY 16 (Again)

An eight-year-old girl with braids
and orange goggles swam into me as I reclined,
Floating on the top of refreshing water

I was caught between the thought of
"This must be what the womb sounds like
from deep inside" and "or perhaps...

"The cradle of death is more..."
and kerplunk, her hand hit the slump
in my belly and I lost my flaming thought

Heart laced apologies and my mumbled
"It's ok, It's Ok" landed someplace
close to where the lost boys cackle

My dog, Sandy died five years ago
I recalled her blonde fur as I floated
My friend, Tom, married his wife, my friend

Mel, twenty one years ago. Died, six years ago.
I don't need a seance to know he is here
My shoulder's slump the visual acuity

of a dead man's pulse
pierces my skin so that
I am no longer able to stay 

atop
the
water

Comments

[Sheila Finkelstein]

Wow, Julie. I felt this through and through.

[gautami tripathy]

It is so good. I like the thought process here.

acuity of touch

[Mark]

This is so moving, haunting....