Julie
By, Jay Ehros Rosing
Those two, June and Julie:
Never truly alone.
Those two were unruly.
Skipping school; Skipping stones
By that old pool now shut down.
All the water drained out.
Bright tiles now brown
Stained from drought.
They played there in the afternoon
In April when the wind blew coolly.
Then May came. So did June.
But not Julie.
Just that wake in August, well wishes till September-
Those fences in December.
With such cooling diction such as this, I can imagine the sound skipping rocks against the ice of a lake bed sounds. A plump followed by an echo and the skitting vibratory tink of the ice slowly cracking. Nice work, Jay!