Lemonade - Alyssa Brockob

Sitting there
as opal rushes beneath brittle bones,
you look down.
Amber. Auburn. Rust.
Rust.
Brown eyes.
Brown eyes with thick lashes that cut through glass
blink each blade and opal turns to black--
momentarily.
Sometimes someone peeks a dark head through the trees
and sees you
sitting there.
Sipping on a stolen lemonade from your brother’s stash.
Maybe they think you enjoy it--
looking light as a feather; balanced between broken beams
of a bridge as old as sorrow,
whose opal fingertips flow far from the touch of your shoes.
Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow.
Lose their meaning.
Time stops--
exhaust.
Deep and black as it towers from the tree-line.
Abruptly the can of stolen lemonade falls
into the hand of the river below you.
But you aren’t worried.
He has more than enough drinks,
and you have more than enough time.
Alyssa Brockob, a senior from Atlantic High School, was inspired to write this poem by a bridge in her hometown.

The editors were impressed with the piece's descriptive imagery and sense of place, as well as its creative use of the challenge words. Alyssa is also the author of the poem "Day to Day."

*Picture provided by Pexels