The pool reflects deep with shallows, an opaque pearl
she has always been beautiful, even now, even then,
she dives without concern, because, what else can happen?
When people die, that’s how you feel, invulnerable in the face
of dreads previously unimagined
and also, terribly, terribly aware of pain.
Some hide the rest of their lives, others drive fast cars at night
not wearing their glasses
she is one of those who stands somewhere in-between
the grief of injury lies heavy on her dark shoulders
still, she plunges into water, imagining other realities
one where she never knew horror and horror never knew her
where babies were born perfect and whole
husbands did not get crushed in half and
soured settlements buys them luxury
they’d trade it all in, to have him whole
less angry, more able to be, swimming underwater with her.
not lost, broken even after healing, crushed despite being repaired
holding the welt of injury in his throat like a choking bird.
She has moved on from who she was
ten years ago in Africa
under the sun, hiding from herself, hiding from kaleidoscopic future
it has come, blooming wild and spreading its green fingers
into her oval mouth
she has no time for passion anymore
she has no patience for imagination
she can only swim
cutting through the reluctant weight of water
like a blunt knife will eventually carve
the true price of things.
for Em.
TheFeatheredSleep 
beautiful piece
WOW. So touching, heartbreaking and evocative. This is a powerful piece! I will be reading this again and again. It’s amazing in each beautiful line that delves into these thoughts of grief and ideas of an alternate life, such as, “if this never happened, I’d be…” It’s truly tragic when one ruminates about this, and you explicate that in an intricate evocation of heart and mind. At the end, it seems that they can no longer dive into those thoughts or their imagination, thus they have to move on to let go of what happened. Truly, a brilliantly penned and tragic piece. This poem is THE best one I’ve read today on WordPress, and honestly, probably the best one this week.
The entire poem is sheer perfection, but these lines:
“it has come, blooming wild and spreading its green fingers
into her oval mouth
she has no time for passion anymore
she has no patience for imagination
she can only swim”
Those truly make the poem. This is a great tribute piece, Candice.
Injury or whatever kind of trauma
Grief lives past healing or not healing
Even when tears have dried
When only the memory of pain remains
Becomes that ocean in which
The swimming fish knows not
The meaning of “ocean”
And just swims in “home”
Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
TheFeatheredSleep – Swimming in deep water
Thank you dearling
Memory being all. Reality. Past. Present. Victor.
Thank you so much dearest Tre
Dearest Lucy thank you so much! I am so glad you liked it. I love writing tribute pieces to people. To me it’s one of the best forms of poetry – thank you. Thank you.
Thank you so very much dear Quiet Man
Hey! You’re welcome!
Memory is story, and we are our stories, and every day is a new blank page to write. It turns out that what I thought was a quote is actually a book title: Every Person’s Life Is Worth a Novel by Erving Polster
Welcome – It is beautiful