Yehudit sat by the pond.
The morning was warm,
sunny, white puffs of clouds
drifted overhead. Benny lay
on his back beside her, eyes
closed, hands behind his head.
She gazed at him. Not sleeping,
eyes motionless behind lids.
Resting he'd say. She took in
his blue jeans and off white
short-sleeved shirt, open necked.
She looked away, back at the pond.
Drakes and ducks swam. A swan
was over the far end. Elegant.
Can be vicious. Suppose they
can be. She put her hands around
her knees, fingers entwined.
Her skirt just over the knees.
Green stockings. Itchy. She
sniffed the air. Flowers, farm
smells over the way, water smell.
She looked at the long grass
behind her. Some months back
they'd been there. She gazing at
the sky, he on top of her. His
hazel eyes, looking into hers.
His quiff of hair on his forehead.
She liked that, the way it moved
as he did. She listening for sounds.
Footsteps in the grass, old broken
branches crunched under foot.
Voices on the wind. Wonder if
we would have? Maybe. Another
time. Too soon. She looked away,
back to the pond. The swan was
nearing the ducks. Circles of water
spread over the pond. There was
that time further in the woods,
dense wood, tall trees, bushes.
Unexpected. Suddenly they were.
She wondering: was this how it was?
He eyes closed, moving in a motion,
entering, sensed him. Her coat on
the ground, cushioning. The tree
tops swaying, his quiff of hair,
clouds moving slow overhead.
She looked at him beside her,
eyes closed, his breathing slow,
but regular like one who dozed.
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 5:03 AM UTC
Yehudit sat by the pond.
The morning was warm,
sunny, white puffs of clouds
drifted overhead. Benny lay
on his back beside her, eyes
closed, hands behind his head.
She gazed at him. Not sleeping,
eyes motionless behind lids.
Resting he'd say. She took in
his blue jeans and off white
short-sleeved shirt, open necked.
She looked away, back at the pond.
Drakes and ducks swam. A swan
was over the far end. Elegant.
Can be vicious. Suppose they
can be. She put her hands around
her knees, fingers entwined.
Her skirt just over the knees.
Green stockings. Itchy. She
sniffed the air. Flowers, farm
smells over the way, water smell.
She looked at the long grass
behind her. Some months back
they'd been there. She gazing at
the sky, he on top of her. His
hazel eyes, looking into hers.
His quiff of hair on his forehead.
She liked that, the way it moved
as he did. She listening for sounds.
Footsteps in the grass, old broken
branches crunched under foot.
Voices on the wind. Wonder if
we would have? Maybe. Another
time. Too soon. She looked away,
back to the pond. The swan was
nearing the ducks. Circles of water
spread over the pond. There was
that time further in the woods,
dense wood, tall trees, bushes.
Unexpected. Suddenly they were.
She wondering: was this how it was?
He eyes closed, moving in a motion,
entering, sensed him. Her coat on
the ground, cushioning. The tree
tops swaying, his quiff of hair,
clouds moving slow overhead.
She looked at him beside her,
eyes closed, his breathing slow,
but regular like one who dozed.
BOY AND GIRL BY A POND IN 1962.
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