Thursday, July 9, 2009

A Day In Single Syllables

We sat on the chairs. Watched them splash and dive for stuff. Float toys wrap their waists like bows. Two piece suits hiked all up. Tops tugged here and there. "Watch ME!"they shout as they think of a trick. They want us to look and we do. Lounge chairs stick to our butts. We sip cokes, tell our tales. Our lives we share in facts. The girls splash and ask for ice cream. "Most moms wont let their three year old jump off the board in the deep end." She says. "But she loves it. She has no fear. I gave her that." And so she did. No one could say she did not.

This friend is bold. Brave. When folks give her stuff she says, "Thank You" and never "No thanks." She will take the gifts. All of them. No qualms for help. She takes it.

"Live here." she says. "There is worth here that is more than the cost. You get more than what you pay for, even though you pay a lot." "Think of what you want and write it down. You will get it. Write it down as it should be, in pure form. That way the force can give it to you and not have to think about it. The force wont think. It will move down the list. Skip you." I am sure she is right.

The girls ask, "How soon will we go? Is it time?" Their hair flat and wet. They are prunes and spent. We have had sun and talk. We are spent too. We all pile in the van. The small one sleeps like a bird, with her beak tucked in her wing. Her neck all hung down.

Their suits are all dirt from the wet tree climb. Oh those girls. The one who says, "When I grow up I want to be wild." Oh jeez, her mom's eyes roll. "What am I in for?"

But it all looks good to me.

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