Watercolors
By Terra Wolfe
Women
are jumping
from the bridge
on Main Street.
The water
is full of them.
Their clothes spread out
to dance
on the icy surface
of the river.
The women
in their silk dresses,
Women in their wool coats.
Women in their Clairol hair,
Women leap
into the the water,
toward the music of the
water
moving toward the rhythms of the water,
in the rushing of the water.
The woman's total celebration
toward the icy city water
soaring from the bridge on Main Street
toward the springtime
of the river.
Leaves of women
after winter
blowing from the bridge on Main Street
flutter down to meet the water
add their colors to the river.
Rainbow river,
rolling, rolling
beckoning with silky power
as the hair in blonde and auburn
flows along the curves of water.
Pink and red and purple dresses
slide along the moving surface
toward the peace of calmer currents.
Every bridge
brings more to join them.
Every village
with a Main Street
feels the music of the river
calling toward the bridge that crosses
hears the singing rushing tempos
of the colors on the water.
Women run to join the music
add their green and yellow clothing
to the motion
of the water.
Women run to join the music
add their green and yellow clothing
to the motion of the water.
More and more the river carries
toward the merging of the waters.
Waves of women joined in brilliance,
sparkling hues of water women.
Warmer stiller oceans of them
from horizon to horizon
rise and fall in steady motion
of the water's constant rocking.
Motion sifts the weight from women,
Weight that falls to deeper waters.
All the weight of all the women
sinks into the depths of oceans.
Colors feeling lighter, lighter
'til the ocean cannot hold them.
Slowly from the restless water
fogs of hues are streaming upward.
clouds of gently merging colors
rise and change with gentle breezes,
push the weightless hues of women
slowly past the rolling ocean.
Sunlight never made such color
even through the mists of rainstorms,
as the moving of the women
danced their hues upon the heavens.
Clouds of women flowing, growing
on the quiet ocean breezes,
feel the gentle movement onward
past the sea's consistent rolling.
'Til the land is green below them.
Green that dots with little houses
Now the dancing hues of women
hear the beat of different music.
One by one their motion ceases
as the sounds that climb from cities,
sounds that reach toward sky for comfort,
pull the colors from their patterns
to their many separate memories.
Love and memories grow ballast
as each is touched by sounds remembered.
Colors take on single presence.
As the women start to listen,
moving toward the city's music.
Women are dropping
from the clouds to Main Street
The sky, the sky is full of them.
Brilliant confetti of women
float gracefully down to the city.
Women grown to brighter colors
feel the solid Earth beneath them.
Women are moving toward
the beckoning Main Street,
The city, the city is full of them.
Copyright Terra Wolfe 2006