it was summer and
we boys —
nearing Manhood —
were swimming,
swinging over the little river
from a rope
and letting go,
falling
into the stream’s deepest green Pool.
wearing swim trunks, or cutoff blue jeans —
Levis and Wranglers.
the canopy of green leaves,
the pool of green Shade,
the courageous letting go.
the absence of punctuation,
its misuse,
our pretending to bravery,
and some of the real thing —
all the rest.
not so far away were Turtles
in capital letters
sunning themselves
on granite outcrops.
we had read huckleberry finn.
but nothing had Prepared us for This.
The nonchalant Girl,
nearing Womanhood,
clad in Nothing —
appeared, approached,
saying nothing memorable.
giving us no sign of worry
or strangeness. Barefoot.
bare of anything,
Unabashed,
silent as a Turtle —
sans the shell.
it was for us to echo her nonchalance,
likely mostly feigned (ours, not hers).
though not one of us could name it.
we mostly fell to silence.
as best as I can remember.
it having been so long ago.
below her belly button
a crop of hair
just So.
Just So.
her perfect legs, torso, arms, ankles —
she may as well have been an angel or a Nymph.
her skin said something about sunlight in shade.
her eyes glowed with Ease —
impossible Ease.
her bare feet cupped the Wet Earth just so —
just So.
we said nothing, though i’m sure
a flame burst from the sun
and left us neither entirely speechless
nor knowing what a tongue
was For.
What a tongue was for.
Our rope swing and river was very similar to this one. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uLg3iXkvcQ&t=110s
But we didn't have to climb up a tree to get the necessary momentum, as we were up on a sort of cliff / steeply banked portion of the river.
This is stunning, James. Bravo and thanks.