Ceasefire
At Dog's Bluff
children swoop on the rope swing,
drop to muddy water.
Some daredevils climb the rocks
thirty feet above the swimming hole
and launch, disappear in the brown,
pop up gasping.
One girl stands frozen at the limestone edge,
a statue of fear while people shout
"Jump! Jump!”
One shirtless man watches silent and scowling.
It’s his daughter up there.
Scars scattered like stars over his back.
I can’t help myself, ask “Shrapnel?”
He fixes me with a glare. “Uh-huh.”
Just then she jumps.
Murky water. Five seconds. Ten.
She pops up. Dad exhales,
breathes again. Away from him, free,
hair trailing black and wild,
she swims toward boys.
“Which war?” I ask.
“Does it matter?”
…..
First published in Slipstream — thank you editor Dan Sicoli.
Photo is at Dog’s Bluff on the Big Piney River in Missouri. The girl midair is my daughter.
Hear me:
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