top of page
  • Mary Ellen Swee

Bouncing Ball

I live in a world of shadows

where Center Road is a light grey ribbon

and the terrier seems as a bouncing ball,

where I feel you because I hear your voice,

and your sound, not your face, is what guides me.


I was pulled onto the center of Center Road,

my view of the world cloaked in lesions.

I blinked to watch a girl rising up from the lake

who looked like a sapling walking. Her pale skin

merged with the overcast sky and into the water below.


I know the lake lies in the east,

at the end of Center Road,

not because I make out a distant color or shape,

but I can feel the sun rise in morning

and I hear what must be whitecaps on a windy day.

Recent Posts

See All

Scranton Alley

It was hot in the alley. Our table was so small that laptops touched. Drinks stood side-by-side. William took a sip of his mocha through a thin black straw. He said it was too chocolatey. Joe correcte

On Isotopes

Unstable mixture! Subject to decay! Radioactive tracer trolling bones. Flown in at early morn for my D-Day, You, Spy, designed for searching hidden zones. Like a sly seaborne invader of veins, Inject

Adam West

I saw the face of God today in a sea-blue room with dogwood flowers overhead, and Fiji, in triptych, on the wall. Adam West was there but not in costume, where sirens sing a vein is dead. Can’t get th

Comments


bottom of page