She's Water

Gray sky caps the world like a lid,
to the south, yellow margins, 
to the north skies darker than snowy rooftops.

The world is waterproof, and she’s water.
Her life is a coloring book with outlined images,
And she’s been given waxy crayons with little pigment–
The marks she makes are timid and pale.

Nightfall brings darkness that she can burrow into.
The street lights, the headlights of cars,
Their contrasts soothe with their definition.
Five o’ clock brings smells of roast beef and baking bread.
At supper the other children talk steadily,
Mom and dad ask about school,
They respond and she stays quiet
Backed into the drapes,
And no one notices.
If she does the dishes before they ask her to
She will not have to speak. 
Alone in the kitchen, it would be good to cry, 
but there would be questions 
that she couldn’t really answer.
Say my crayons lost their color?
Why is the world waterproof?

Jacqueline Martindale was Wisconsin coordinator of Poetry Out Loud, 2006-2019 and former high school English teacher. She enjoys her two blooming grandchildren. She also paints in watercolors and acrylic and draws in graphite, colored pencils, and pastels. She lives in Sun Prairie.