Crunching turns to thumping
As my knock-off Converse transition—
From the steep dirt switchbacks
To the worn boards of the overlook point.
“Isn’t it incredible?”
Asks a disjoint multitude of voices.
“Fantastic!”
Responds their counterpart chorus.
All voices absorbed into
The crashing water’s roar.
Gripping the railing’s damp wood,
I direct my eyes
Toward the wall of hazy white.
“Look! It makes little rainbows
when the sun hits the mist just right!
Breathtaking!”
They marvel,
And I trust that it is.
Fibers’ gentle rasping turns to a muted thudding
As my bare feet transition—
From the recently vacuumed carpet
To cracked, decades-old kitchen linoleum.
“Coming to dinner, hon?”
Asks my mother.
“Just washing up first!”
I respond.
Our voices melting into
The evening newscaster’s sign-off.
Lifting my dripping hands from the basin,
I focus on a single drop of water
Suspended from my fingertip.
It filters the window’s patches of grey pavement and green trees
Into a weird kaleidoscope of bound temporality.
“Breathtaking…”
I marvel,
And I know that it is.
HIVES 