Art Will Survive, Artists Won't

12. peripeteia

You died last summer.
I'm sure you can't remember, but
It feels like only yesterday.
You don't believe me, but
I'll tell you how you died
Last summer.

Everything was tinged yellow
Through those sunglasses Margot bought us.
The pond was bright and cool and round
And we'd take turns jumping off the dock.
I still don't understand
You told us you could swim...

Everything was calm for those few moments
Reeds swayed lazily in the breeze
Your brown hair fluttered like a bird.

You hadn't brought a bathing suit that day.
Perhaps that
Was part of the problem.
Your shirt was the pink one
Kate made for you on your birthday
Two summers before.
In your shirt and shorts
You leapt off the pier and
While you were in the air the world
Stopped.
I could see you, your hair in the wind,
And I knew that you were about to die.

You plunged into the pond,
And I think it was only then you realized
How deep it was.
I could see you clearly through the reeds.

You were
Coughing and
Gagging and
Screaming and
Breathing and
Sinking.

Grace screamed your name
And Mason jumped in to get you but
I was frozen.
And I was so stupid because
If I had moved,
Maybe you wouldn't have died last summer.

Mason grabbed you under your
Arm and pulled you hard towards
The shore.
Kate and Adam helped drag you onto the dirt.
I was far away, but I could hear
As if whispered to me
What Adam had told them.

"She's dead."

Your pink shirt was plastered to your chest
And your hair spread around you like
A mermaid.
But who ever heard of a mermaid who drowned?

By the time I could move
It was far too late to say goodbye.

You died last summer.
Maybe, since I told you the story
You would understand.