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Jul 2013
I sit in her garden
listening to the lilting of the birds
feeling the grass tickle my bare wrists
chilled water of the brook meanders past, satiating my toes
while the flowing shadow of the elm lets in specks of the sun
as the wind steps through the leaves.

I'm lazily following an ant as it crawls upon my knuckle when I hear her

Come and find me, she says

She stands among the red ivy, as it madly creeps up the ancient brick behind her

I stand up and walk towards her

The ivy wraps around her wrists and ankles
It weaves in and out of her hair, flows around her neck
It envelopes her hips
Panic sets in

Come and find me, she cries, as she is finally enveloped

She is gone.
The wall of ivy has stolen her.

I rip at it, tear at it.  I dig in.

I'm surrounded by ivy, as I look back I see a tunnel
a small opening of light indicating where I had started.

It seems miles away
How long have I been here?

It is then that I look at my hands

They are covered in blood

Crimson drops fall from the torn ivy

Come find me

I gasp

"Are you OK, honey?"

She's sitting next to me on the sofa
sipping her cocoa while mine sits
on the coffee table, getting cold

She lays with her legs across me now,
she's wearing a sundress that tempts
but she's unaware.  She tells me about
what our eldest son did while I was working

I should be so proud of him, she tells me

She must be aware of my look of confusion,
as she again asks me what's wrong.

I look down at my shoes as I explain that
I don't remember having kids.  I brace
for the anger, but as I look up I only see


as she cradles the womb
that has denied her happiness

The tears well up, and they fall to the ground
I do my best to comfort her, but she's eroding
each drop taking away a part of her
until only a puddle remains

It starts raining.
I'm soaked to the bone
I'm walking to the bridge where I know she'll be
She likes it because it's falling apart.

She's standing at the edge, looking down.
The ravine is much deeper than you would expect
the bottom is a black pool of water

She's sitting at the edge, tossing pebbles over the side
oblivious to the creaking and moaning of the bridge
trying to warn her away.

She sees me stop at the foot of the bridge, and looks at me
with those piercing blue eyes.  You just don't say no to eyes like that.
They look me over as that familiar feeling washes over me.
I'll do what you want.  Just say when.  Just keep looking at me like that.
A hand beckons me to sit down, I carefully oblige.

We both know what happens next, but we sit in the silence for the longest time

Finally, she takes my hand...and we're falling.

As we plummet, she holds me tight and whispers in my ear

You found me

The bottom races towards us

Blinding light

and I am at peace
Lot of metaphor here, half of it I'm not even sure if I understand, but it isn't as morbid as it might appear at first glance.
Joel A Doetsch
Written by
Joel A Doetsch  St. Louis, MO
(St. Louis, MO)   
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