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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3955 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Wordless River Suzanne Benches falter in dappled light, her cup too full for any to hold her. I sit near her whyness freckled moon-milk skin clad in straps of nothing a frown that says enough; the mouth won't say a word. I ask, pointless what gift may fall true to my friend all red-cheeked. Will my hand which long ago held onto her wrist, frightened of the light blue tremor within? Will my eye on her neck, knitting a warm coat to shield her? Would she look up now and recover? Defeated by the near-glass fragility of her shoulders, by the reeds that have left her voice, I sit a minute longer silent. |
