SQN - Sine Qua Non - Issue Two - Journal - Page 54
SINE QUA NON
Rowen Holder
Sherre Vernon
the pendulum stops
Stranger, I Say to the Mirror
|e hard rope obers dig into the palms of my soft 7-year-old hands. |e teal, circular seat
beneath me clings to my jean shorts like glue, sticking from the morning dew droplets.
my hair now longish again. We’ve got to
get the grey ones gone my five-year-old instructs over the buzz of the clippers she
wields, clippers she9s running up the full length
of my head & across it in random
patterns. Maybe now you9re wondering how
it is I am sitting here on the edge
of the tub while my kid holds a power tool
to my head, sheds of my temples falling
in the snow globe of this room, this life turned
upside down. When we finish here, she9ll take
a handful of me outside for the song
sparrows to nest with & falling leaves will
scent her skin, like ashed incense after prayer.
I am in night.
A pendulum of motion.
Whooshhh.
My toes reach out for the tree that forever will be just out of reach of my short legs. My hair
nows in the opposite direction, catching the wind.
Whooshhh.
It9s funny—the swift motion of the rope swing never scares me, but I always hesitate before
bringing my feet ormly into the tall grass.
|e thought of my sudden deceleration is scary—scarier than the prospect of spending the
rest of my life high above the ground.
———
I sit up in bed and my head slams into a hard surface.
|e white textured ceiling of my grandparents9
