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Jul 2014
a sea of green
and we are swimming in it
some drowning, others floating
this park
full of bright, full and illustrious green
and we are scattered,
finding our way
searching for that one tree that calls us forward
the bench that will cradle us as we cover it in tears
the penumbra in the open space
this park holds us
a hub of nature in a metal box
the centre
surrounded by equal bursts of laughter, a chirp, a ball hitting a mitt, a hush of wind through trees, the rumble of a streetcar
once I believed and wished I could bring someone to this park
like this couple, intertwined on a yellow towel,
hands and feet so tangled it is as if they sit in a cocoon,
I used to wish that I could take someone through the green,
swimming until we find a shore,
a space for us,
instead I watch dark haired men kick a ball
back and forth,
back and forth
under the backdrop of that tower
and I watch five girls in grey and black be immortalized in a camera,
leaning on trees,
and smiling vividly,
and I see a white dog be consumed by the thought of catching this tiny ball,
it is his world
and as I watch these people.
I wonder if they watch me
if they watched me that day I fell
that day I stumbled to that bench by the diamond
two people sit on it now, surrounded by bikes
but they don’t know that I melted there
I dissolved into a pool of salt
I still can’t remember my trajectory through this park, but maybe they do
maybe I should ask that broad shouldered man what my breath sounded like
or that woman with the toddler how I walked
or that purple haired girl what I was doing with my hands
I don’t remember
but I continue to return
this sea of green
is where I drowned
but where, amongst the brush,
I pushed my way through
I dived through those leaves and pushed back those branches and let the thorns scrape my skin
and I emerged
near the marble arch, on the cobbled streets
I rose to the surface of that arch and I floated
and I must remind myself
every time I come through that entry
not to sink
to swim,
to float
in this green
to look up and see the surface, dotted with clouds
painted with blue
and see the yellow smile that brushes its way onto my face
and feel safe
I am found in this sea.
I am me in this sea.
Rebecca Gismondi
Written by
Rebecca Gismondi  Toronto
(Toronto)   
646
 
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