The Jump

by Brianna G. Harte

The pool we jumped in

Without knowing how cold,

How it could hurt us

Washed over our bodies.

A small splash came forth,

Bringing not a mind frozen in shock

But a mind capable of mulling over

The journey across the tiles,

Dry then not.

We may swim together,

But with a shock dissuaded,

Our heads stay above the water.

Our eyes never going red.

And our own splashes can still be made.

Copyright © 2017 Brianna G. Harte. All rights reserved.

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