Alexandra Niebaum, Grounding

Grounding

ALEXANDRA NIEBAUM

Find the things that are red: The exit sign, That man’s tie, The shiny shoes on that little girl.

Find the things that are blue: There’s more things that are blue; My dress, her purse, the phone case left on the seat. The seat is upholstered in a rough gray.

Gray. What is gray in this room? All the seats, the walls, the ceiling, the light fixtures, All different shades of gray. Hmm, let's move on.

Yellow, this one’s tough. That girl has yellow hair. The highlighter in that woman’s bible is yellow. What else? I shouldn’t stare...

Black, yellow and black like a bumble bee. What is black in this room? All the Bibles, the pastor’s suit, All the legs of the chairs.

I feel my legs, I feel them bounce. My toes touch the ground as my heels hover Up and down, up and down, Faster than I can think or notice.

My heels are just below my ankles, Which reach up to my calves. The bend of my knee is acute And my thighs rub against the thin fabric of my dress.

All these things I feel, when feeling has gone away. Presence is a luxury, but I intend to stay. 25