Linda McCauley Freeman
I
When I was
little my brother
and I would climb
down the ladder
at the deep end
of the pool.
went deeper, held
longer underwater
won. Water pushed
me up as I pushed
myself down, my
long hair swimming
above me, cheeks
puffing. I am afraid
of drowning.
I would always be first
to break surface,
wait for my brother
to rise.
II
My husband
and I walk
the drained
reservoir.
What’s left
crosses us:
stone
foundations,
wooden boats,
an old blue bottle.
Ice chimes tingle
across broken
water.
My husband
goads me,
urges
rock to rock.
I toss
the bottle to him.
It crashes
against stone.
III
Skiing,
I went without
fear
but found it
in my knees
which shook
uncontrollably.
Knew with each
turn, I would fall.
To lose control
is to fall.
IV
What I need
and what I have
hang
on a trapeze
I cannot
grasp one
without
abandoning
the other. I want
to release
mid-air,
live in the gasp
between
letting go
and getting
caught.
About the Author
Linda McCauley Freeman is the author of the full-length poetry collection The Family Plot (Backroom Window Press, 2022) and has been widely published in international journals, including in a Chinese translation. She was nominated for a Pushcart Prize 2022. Recently she appeared in Delta Poetry Review, Poet Magazine, Amsterdam Quarterly, and won Grand Prize in StoriArts’Maya Angelou poetry contest. She received a grant from Arts MidHudson and was selected for Poets Respond to Art 2020, 2021 and 2022 shows. She was a three-time winner in the Talespinners Short Story contest judged by Michael Korda. She has an MFA from Bennington College and is the former poet-in-residence of the Putnam Arts Council. She lives in the Hudson Valley, NY. Follow her at www.Facebook.com/LindaMcCauleyFreeman