Poetry — August 9, 2013 11:26 — 0 Comments

Her Swim – Robb Benson

We lived on rural property, with rolling fields and a bit of forest
We had an old crooked house, redone up to our tastes, near a beautiful lake
It was getting dark, and I was walking the only road back
That’s when I saw you there, about an acre away, beautiful & naked by the shore

Then I looked down to see the shed skin of a snake, rather sizable
I thought it odd for these parts, not being known for such insidious creatures
I picked up the largest half of the molt and carried it to show you upon my return

Then as I strolled closer I could see you were swimming
Moonlight danced across your body & the water as reflections from a wind chime
& you didn’t see, but about twenty feet away and twisting was a tremendous serpent
Suddenly the water became less innocent

I shouted out approaching the shoreline & reached in to pull you safe
You hurried along, looking back over your shoulder at the chilling organism that tailed you
And when it came ashore, I did the unthinkable, grabbing it like a charmer by the back of the neck
I grasped it’s jaw shut before it could strike
It thrashed around like a warrior
I sensed it cursing me

In those few minutes, held cold within the grip of fear and adrenaline,
I just pressed it as tight as I could, and took its breath away with my bare hands

It didn’t feel heroic
I stood there empty and heavyhearted
& that was my mystery
That was the moment that paused and stood out

There may have been a few seconds of silent reflection
Before I opened my eyes, to see the familiar walls and edges of my room
Where I had been sleeping & dreaming about you
& I questioned how my mind could create such an atmosphere of seriousness

Bio:

Robb Benson is a Seattle musician and songwriter. Most recently, he released a solo album called, Cursive Falls From The Sky.

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What am I?

Bioluminescent eye
That sees by the shine
Of its own light. Lies

Blind me. I am the seventh human sense
And my stepchild,
Consequence;

Scientists can't find me.

Januswise I make us men;
Glamour
Was my image then—

Remind me:

The awful fall up off all fours
From the forest
To the hours…

Tick, Tock: Divine me.

-- Richard Kenney