Mr. Darcy snorted.
Considering it a reply in itself, he said nothing
more. Ms. Bennet looked toward,
an explanation. “Well?”
Her eyes widened, she performed
a quizzically encouraging nod.
it spoke in silence.
“You can’t skip it more than
He emphasized “you” as if such a feat were possible
but lost only on her. His fingers tinkered
with the salt of the earth.
a flat pebble from her pile. A premonition
about her face;
she cocked her hand toward the water.
slender arms, tense; watched
yet dig in
as the pebble left her hand, imperceptible until it touched
the gentle eddies rippling
from collisions long past,
took off again.
to the moment with steel ropes, unnoticing
of the sunset that dipped nearby
in willful misunderstanding.
of a nearby waterfall collided, combined, separated, shattered into a dizzying array of light,
collecting, recombining, the reformation of destruction in the span
of a skipping stone.
a strand of hair across her brilliant uncolored
eyes. Her mouth
was slightly open,
constructed by those
the world and wisely screaming
an end. Hesitantly, it rose away from the liquid that greedily
absorbed the first salt it had tasted in years.
It wobbled, if ever so slightly.
The distance is nothing when one has a motive.
in a moment unfixed from time.
and struck with a splash. A small explosion was born
not far from the monster nearby, its life as brief as the span
of a water droplet
in a different position from before, the wind long
What is water to the wise?
What once lost is lost forever?
What’s a fool’s greatest disguise?
- The poem’s theme is loosely based on the speech and characteristics of Jane Austen’s characters in Pride and Prejudice.
- The image was taken in a forgotten town in the United Kingdom.