Ms. Widman High School Creative Writing
It’s almost pretty
Isn’t it
You forget you’re sitting
In darkness
Wonder what he means
Some significance
Let’s go
We never got together
“I was afraid”
You must have known
You had me
How could you be afraid?
Power to the present
Not rich enough when we were kids
Car on the shoulder slipped down
Fifteen feet
They rolled clay and gravel
Sweat-glistened Jesus
Legs streaked with mud
“You wanna go back?”
More scratches, more streaked mud
“Look at me.”
Scratches, angry red
“I fell in”
“He jumped in there with me.”
Oozy mud dripped down
I baptize you.
No, he did.
I baptize you.
“Look at me, you wanna go back?”
Toward the water,
Breathing hard
Angry red
Look
At
Me.


