Ophelia

Petals rustle in the midafternoon breeze;
the reeds sway in tune.
The calm water has nowhere to go,
so it waltzes downstream.

The blades of grass slip between her toes,
soon replaced by the water’s edge.
Velvet mud oozes beneath her step,
and the water kisses her hair.

She lowers herself into that icy embrace;
Goosebumps tickle her skin.
Her skirts fan out,
and the water kisses her lips.

~Kayla Gibson

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