Read Between the Limes

A boy sits alone.

His eyes ever staring

black pools of cold water.

Thinking.

Wondering.

Doubting.

Others see him but dare not

meet his gaze.

They are much too afraid

of heights.

Like trees growing around

a stump with deep roots,

they keep their distance.

All seats around him are empty.

The roots burrow deeper,

the black pools are stagnant.

“Why?”

A long-necked girl,

eyes big but clouded,

plops down next to the stump.

She cannot see the still water,

her eyes are telescopes

searching the cosmos.

Her nose hidden in the clouds.

Others see her from miles away.

But she is much too far to be reached.

She won’t be bothered by those who

sit around her.

Visualizing.

Fantasizing.

Observing.

The black pools fill with sand and

change to brown. Now shallow,

people probe the bottom

with pleasant conversation.

The telescopes retract,

binoculars look down to Earth.

Lenses reflecting the brown,

shallow water.            

Chemistry.