Thursday, July 24, 2008

Jemimah.

Jemimah stood
barefoot
amongst the grass
on the hill
in the paddock
and let the cotton
of wind kiss and
tickle the hairs
which stood to
attention along her
arms, beside the
goosebumps and
between the freckles.

From here
she could see the
mother curves of
the earth rollercoaster
into the distance
where tall masculine
mountains stood
as stern grey haired
guards on the horizon.

Jemimah was
eighteen years old
just yesterday and
had celebrated with
a single cupcake
and her cat,
Inky.

The party
had taken place
on the swinging floral
Love Seat which hung
on the front verandah
and Jemimah had let
her thoughts meander
as she absently
scratched Inky
behind the ears.

Her house.

This was her house now.

Her big empty house.

She missed them.

She missed the
way her mother had
sung to herself
a nameless tune
as she baked the
bread in the morning.

Every morning.

She missed the noise
her father's boots had
made as he clomped
and stomped the mud
from beneath the soles
and the way he smelled
of burnt tobacco and
fresh pine needles.

She missed the way they
had laughed, and the looks
they had shared
with each other, the
secrets of the other
they held dear, the
gentle sighing of their
bed which only ever
breathed softly in the
darkest moments of the night
as though they were
too polite to let their
only daughter hear the
intimate melody of
their lovemaking.

Her father's voice
from gruff and gravel
to soft and level
a chasm of depth

a bleeding death

as under the tractor
they both called out to her
not for help

but for her to be strong

as she stood helpless and watched
as they reached across the void
to touch each other's
hand as they passed
together and smiled
they smiled
and closed their eyes
and then she stood
alone.

And she never cried.

Not then,

not ever.

But days like today
she would stand
amongst the
grass on the hill
in the paddock
and let the cotton
of wind kiss and
tickle the hairs
which stood to
attention along her
arms, beside the
goosebumps and
between the freckles.

And
she could see her
mother's curves in
the earth
roll
into the distance
where her father
the
mountain stood
as a stern grey haired
guard on the horizon.

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