LITERARY JOURNAL OF WILLIAM CAREY UNIVERSITY 2021
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LITERARY JOURNAL OF WILLIAM CAREY UNIVERSITY 2021
Department of Language and Literature
The Flower Maker Laurinda Diane Johnson
The Indigo
2021
William Carey University
CONTENTS
Landon Adams 22 Burning Bridge
28 American Absalom R achel Ann Farnham
Stephanie Arnold 27 Not Downtrodden
23 Benjamin we go to Baton Rouge 24 Snowset Peace
Bailey Adkins Virginia Fennell
34 Holoferne 34 Questions
Julia Berry 36 Wealth
34 Searching Thomas Ford
35 Okay 48 A Mask of Raindrops
Leanna Gr ace Blakeslee Clay Gr aves
12 Her 42 Chapel
46 Xikrins Boy Gr ant Guthrie
Emily Br anan 4 To Mr. Frost
30 Me and You, Through the Seasons 20 Impermanence
Garry Breland 24 Supplications Upon Reading
9 Requiem for a Wheel Kierkegaard’s Purity of Heart
Rose Bruce 21 Garden Lesson
44 Unfailing Love Jacob Havard
Allison Chestnut 5 Untitled, Charcoal
40 Grate Anna Henderson
Robert Cox 37 Brush Creek
53 Count and Do Not Rhyme 14 Heaven’s Splendor
Dailynn Davis 17 Just Breathe
53 Answer Dewanda Dawn Hutchinson
32 Books 33 The Crossroads
21 Paper Nature Gabrielle Hulin
Kimberly DeLorenze 34 Paths
10 Deluge 46 Future
Michael DeLorenze Laurinda Diane Johnson
26 España Cover, The Flower Maker
Loretta Fairley Lauren Ashley Jones
7 Relevance 7 Teachers
25 2020 Christian Lovett
25 Bumblebee 26 Awaiting Conversation
Teensy Treasures
Trinity Stewart 25 Mankind 23 Expressions of Spring
CONTENTS
Editor’s Notes C. S. Lewis said, “Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is
Continued written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.” (Who knows what
that means?) Every other Indigo starts with a quote and I do not want to break tradition.
If you read the Editor’s notes from previous editions, each year contained a new obstacle.
Murph Little Deanna Roberts
This year is the same, with trials which we advance through, for the university, as a country,
7 Arson 10 Depths
and, perhaps, the modern world. I feel like The Indigo reflects the gamut of emotion, faith,
Alysen Matthews 45 Koi Pond
imagination, and humanity during those trials where every moment becomes important. It
48 179 Skulls 44 Night Lines takes bravery to share a part of oneself with others, in any medium. It is the intrepidity we
19 Untitled Jennifer Scroggins anticipate in the writings of the Carey family, each person writing miracles in small letters,
Mike Madaris 47 UnMasked sharing common stories that are a different echo in the retelling. We encourage looking for
18 Behind the Smiles Meagan Smith a reflection of yourself within the pieces.
38 Two Ticket Stubs 5 For my Mammaw, Toshiko Pigford, Sincerely,
Darian McCord who has gone home. Kimberly DeLorenze, Graduate Student Editor
43 Holy Name 22 Prism
What a year. Few normal things have continued but writing and creativity are two of the few
39 Words R aymond Smith
things that always continue. In fact, writing and creativity often flourish in times of hardship,
15 Loved Me First 37 Tree
creating poets and writers out of people who would not usually have the time or desire to sit
Rebecca Ann Mowdy Trinity Stewart
and create. The talents of William Carey’s students, alumni, faculty, and staff are inspiring. I
8 Wagon Wheel 34 Invertebrate hope you enjoy reading The Indigo as much as we have enjoyed editing it.
7 Untitled Frontispiece - Teensy Treasures
25 Bird Tree Rebecca Lauren Thompson Sincerely,
20 Sunset Back Cover - Life’s Replacement Emily Branan, Undergraduate Student Editor
Sydney D. Myers 32 Soul Scream
36 Still Life Alayna Weathers
Jessie Parker 32 Alice Acknowledgements It is with much appreciation that we express gratitude to all persons who contributed to The
Indigo. There were many insightful submissions, making the production of this edition a joyful
4 Ceramic Totem 31 Sonnet
process. We have been energized and challenged by the exceptional talent of students,
12 Nocturnal Sar ah Wedgeworth
faculty, staff, and alumni. The Indigo staff offers special thanks to Dr. Ed Ford for lending
Sage Pendergr ass 32 Quest
his expertise in design and layout. We also thank Mrs. Barbara Tillery for printing copies
31 Inside Out Chloe Wicker of The Indigo for those who wished to have a tangible version. It has been a great honor
Jessica Pulivarthi & Janie Wiggins 15 The Axe Forgets working with and having the support of so many, particularly the Department of Language
11 Primrose Mnemosyne 14 Notre Dame and Literature. Within that department, Mrs. Dolores O’Mary was our lifeline when we had
Jessica Pulivarthi 45 Vertigo questions and Dr. Tom Richardson, our department chair, was our foundation. Now, it is
11 Primrose Bethanie Wilson with great enthusiasm and consideration that we present this edition of The Indigo to our
34 Friend’s Gesture readers, and we hope you find something relatable and enjoyable inside.
Sincerely,
The Indigo Editors
Kimberly DeLorenze, Co-Editor
Emily Branan, Co-Editor
Allison Chestnut, Faculty Sponsor
Font Cover: Laurinda Diane Johnson, The Flower Maker, The Indigo is a publication of William Carey University, All Rights Reserved.
Back Cover: Rebecca Lauren Thompson, Life’s Replacement
2 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 3
To Mr. Frost
(An Open Letter After Reading “Pea Brush,”
“Putting In The Seed,” “A Time To Talk,” And “The
Cow In Apple Time”)
by Grant Guthrie
I confess my affection for you
Though in time, geography, and creed
We are most aptly described as separate
As two poets, both farmers, can be.
Untitled-Charcoal Jacob Havard
For my M a m m aw, Toshiko Pigfor d,
We two are in love with the small things
w ho h a s gone home.
Of the earth, the unnoticed event
That shoulders its way to the surface by Meagan Smith
Amid those of more anxious intent.
I don’t know if I truly understood my Mammaw (grandmother, for those
not fluent in Southern) until last year. All the little pieces of her, the
In your lines the mundane is awakened memories I have and the stories I was told all fell together as I learned
As a seed, after rain in its season, about the Japanese artform “Gaman.”
Finds its strength in the quickening sun The word “Gaman” means “to endure the seemingly unbearable with
And lends mystery to the gardener’s reason. patience and dignity.” This verb turned into the name of an art form
and was a huge piece of the Mammaw puzzle for me. But, to help you
reading, I’ll briefly explain how Japanese Americans practiced Gaman
Cautious friends will admonish my kinship internment campus during WWII.
With you, I do so myself. After Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, Americans, government and citizens
More canonical pundits are present alike, were scared. So, the government gathered Japanese Americans
and forced them to live in internment camps from 1942-1945. They
Taking rest in their homes on my shelf. were not comfortable places. They were not home. The people there
were expected to press pause, idle their lives, until the government
decided to let them go.
But when senses are hungry for pricking
Your thin volume I take from its place A large number of internees were children, and the adults in the camps
were determined to help them keep their innocence and to prepare
To hold nature’s delight to my bosom, them for when they could live free. So, they organized themselves:
Ceramic Totem
Her creator’s purpose to trace. Jessie Parker
doctors, teachers, seamstresses, artists, dance instructors, athletes,
4 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 5
engineers, drafters of architecture… they When they returned to America, they Arson
made a community. came back to nothing. She not only had to by Murph Little
adjust to Southern culture and to the scorn
Dana’s grandparents met in an internment of Americans who did not like Japanese Arson was a word reserved for fiction
camp and one of Dana’s most prized people, but she and her husband also had until the fire swept up
possessions is an umbrella, 6 inches in to build a life from the ground up with her
diameter, made from toothpicks, a broken first child on her hip. And yet, they built a and called us from our home
chopstick, and cigarette papers. It’s beautiful life anyway. She found Christ, she to watch a second die.
beautiful. Dana found a book called The Art made friends, she opened the eyes and
of Gaman by Delphine Hirasuna where she hearts of a community as she endeared
discovered that internees planted gardens, herself to them.
made broaches, painted masterpieces,
created dolls, formed delicate miniature She was a wonderful seamstress, making
flower arrangements, and more—all out of clothes for her 4 children including gorgeous
things they found. Trash discarded, bottles couture dresses for her two daughters. (She
and jars all used up. made an Easter dress or two for me, too, I
just remembered.) Untitled
The Japanese-Americans used creativity Rebecca Ann Mowdy
to endure the seemingly unbearable She laughed fully with her whole body,
with patience and dignity during this nothing held back, and she loved with
unfathomable experience. I believe my her whole soul. Her life wasn’t all bad
Mammaw did the same. She was not experiences she had to repurpose, but she Relevance Teachers
in America during WWII. She met my always took the trash, the leftovers, and
grandfather in Japan after graduating from made beautiful things you could hold in by Loretta Fairley by Lauren Ashley Jones
a prestigious college in Japan, which was your hands and beautiful things you could
very strange because women in Japan hold in your heart. Gaman. the meeting drags on Students vienen, entonces they go,
did not normally go to college then. She about something Pero the bonds siempre they grow.
worked as an English translator at a hospital, My cousin Amy told me a story that I think
and my American soldier grandfather was epitomized how my Mammaw lived her life: irrelevant Cuando se gradúan
there to fix the morgue refrigerators. He every year my grandfather would buy a cow, Y no los veo anymore,
didn’t have the proper paperwork and and my grandmother would love it. At the
Mammaw wouldn’t let him in—thus began end of the year, they would butcher it, and my eyes fall on a map Still, them I will remember
the Tsukasaki/Shumock romance. my grandmother would cry for the cow. of Afghanistan Y estuve feliz
She was disowned twice—once when she That is how I want to love, repetitively without and I wonder Porque they will tener éxito
married my grandfather and once again the anticipation of loss. That is how I want how many soldiers died Y I will haré hecho
after the war was over and her family had to live, boldly without the anticipation of
a chance to invite her back in. They didn’t. failure. Though Mammaw was inhibited by while I sat here todo lo que pude.
Her brother did give her his first name to a stroke for years and years, all the way until
use as a last name, though. That had to the end, she still chose Christ and Gaman.
have been so painful, and yet, she was part is this what they’re
of the foundation of a beautiful family. Her art was living well. fighting to protect?
Her craft was love.
6 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 7
Requiem for a Wheel
by Dr. Garry Breland
Nice as this is, I wonder what it would be like
To have pictures of the whole wagon
Instead of just this one wheel. After all,
We take more pictures of weddings than of funerals.
In an earlier picture, a young man
Might be urging a mule along a sandy track,
Wagon stacked high with watermelons,
Bound for town on market day.
The shot could capture this one wheel
And the furrow creasing the farmer’s brow
While he calculated earnings after the rent
On land, shack, wagon, and mule.
Another image could show the wagon
At rest by a moon-dappled chinaberry tree,
The window in the sharecroppers’ shack
Glowing feebly with their hopes and dreams.
But as happens to us all, this wheel’s days
For freighting either sorrow or joy
Lie well in the earth’s past revolutions—
An antique implement, come to rest in reverie.
This picture probably had to wait until students
In photography class were assigned a project
Showing mastery of the principles
Of light, line, shape, texture, and perspective.
And on the day they all went forth
Wagon Wheel This one wheel was all that remained—
Rebecca Ann Mowdy The sole survivor of its fellows.
Maybe it was squeaky and got all the grease.
8 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 9
Primrose Mnemosyne
by Jessica Pulivarthi and Janie Wiggins The towers begin to crack and fade;
Flowers bloom and flowers grow; The pirates raise anchor and sail away.
Mountains rise and rivers flow. The war-torn child falls to her knees,
From child to youth, the bitter trance Patching her wounds with memories.
Drifts about Time’s endless dance
But her wounds will not remain
Pervading through breaths and sighs, Nor her tears forever stain,
Life begins through air-struck cries. For life goes on in lands anew,
It then continues, in mother’s arms- And where there’s war, peace comes too.
Carefree, innocent, and unalarmed
Depths From bairn to child in few short years,
Deanna Roberts Strollers, diapers disappear,
Replaced instead by mermaid’s tails,
Deluge
Faerie rings and wishing wells.
by Kimberly DeLorenze
Treetops refract daylight Life then halts, or so it’d seem:
Ankles brushing dewed grass Clear and bright, an endless dream.
I dust sand from notched letters The days go by in princesses’ towers,
With boisterous pirates and superpowers.
Sliding fingers across granite
Thunder pounds
The stars are yours to command;
Rain trickles around an angel statuette You hold the earth within your hand.
Wilting a fresh arrangement All the world is at your feet;
Gladiolus were your favorite The very sun is in your reach.
Mud pools at my feet, knees, throat, mouth
Until my vision blurs But life cannot remain or stay, Girl with Bandage
And, too soon, youth floats away. Jessica Pulivarthi
Just as you reach for the sky,
As age must come, then youth must die.
10 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 11
voice was taken over by those not affected to what they wanted her to be, and not as
by this ever so innocent handicap, being empathetic to their own predestined state
forgotten with nothing else to give. of mind. Instead, her call to action pierced
the ears of her critics, encouraging others
Warrioress. Although she was considered to persevere. The way she attended to
a liability to some, she never let her society’s outcasts offended anyone still
deformity restrain her from what she knew conforming to age old expectancies. Her
she wanted. In a world of bias, it was a altruistic customs motivated women and
constant battle to simply keep standing, men alike to follow the path she had spent
to keep herself aloft in a society constantly a lifetime forging through the haze of
straining to keep her from her dreams. Sick traditions long set in place against the wills
of her affliction, she began to fight; not of innocent-minded people. She was in
on bloodthirsty battlefields but within the every way what society knew they needed -
streets of her own town. With fire in her someone radical enough to challenge what
veins, she roared her battle cry, declaring had come before and build a new society
she would not be forgotten, she would not entirely focused on building up one another
play victim to the destructive tendencies in love, no matter their predisposition.
of others, under no circumstances would
she be trampled into dust by oppression. Heroine. She had spent all she had
She was not alone in the fight, and when defending her cause. Years had passed
she joined the ranks, she led the surge of and she had done so much for her world;
army against army, unstoppable in the face made such an insurmountable impact that
of tyranny. With admiration in their eyes, her legacy could not be lost or forgotten.
others plagued by her disease began to But still, there was something wrong in the
call her courageous; inspirational, they way she herself viewed her own position.
Nocturnal
murmured among one another, rising To her it was still a disease. She looked
again with renewed strength. Despite her inward and saw the corruption, the black
Her Jessie Parker
disadvantages, her prowess engulfed her infection of the world’s hate had inevitably
enemy’s ideologies which once ravished conquered a piece of her mind. This she
by Leanna Grace Blakeslee those suffering from the same restraint she could not accept. Suddenly - this girl, this
suddenly found herself living for. warrioress, this queen - had to save herself
from the disease she had spent so long
Girl. She was born into the world at a disadvantage; not of the monetary
Queen. Marred by battle scars and saving others from; she knew it was up to
kind or of physical deformity and certainly not in status. Instead, her
memories of comrades ousted by liars and her, and her alone, to rescue herself and
disability lingered when least expected. In her education when her
cowards, she rose above her deformity. change her own perspective. Perhaps it
teachers offered no challenge or help, saving their breath for those
Her reputation spread, and soon she could was not a disease. What if what she had
assumed to have more strength, more courage, more independence.
be found in the hearts and minds of little advocated was not a disadvantage or a
For those with more machismo. It was in those unforeseen moments
victims growing up into the same disease. disability or even a liability? What if it was
of public solitude when predators lingered; when she could feel their
To them, she was ethereal; a celestial icon her strength?
eyes stray a little too long, waiting for their opportunity to pounce.
brought down from the heavens, sent to
Her disease was in the very essence of what was expected of her -
lead them to freedom. She was in no way Woman. Finally, she had come into her own.
how her life was assumed to take place, with its specific compilation
what society wanted - not quite as placid She continued to grow and understand
of events all planned out before she was even born and far before she
as they had deemed fit, not as attentive in every situation she encountered. But
had become to exist. It was even in simple conversation, when her
12 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 13
now, she understood her womanhood vast amounts of hope and determination. Loved Me First
was her most powerful ally. It was what It was in her persistent way of steadfast
gave her strength, courage, and her own resistance in every conflict which failed by Darian McCord
independence to continue on in a world to tear her down, and in how she offered
To Earth you came as a lowly babe
craving equality. It was in her the world forgiveness and peace to those who
realized what it had been searching for: were only now beginning to realize the Born to die a death to conquer the grave
from her ability to aid others, to the way shortcomings of their past. This is where You came to suffer in a world you created
she challenged innumerable foes with her she found her femininity.
Bringing life even though you were hated
Brought down a love we could only imagine
Notre Dame Walked to a cross You knew would happen
And I can sing for years
by Chloe Wicker
Praise You every word
see the flickering chandeliers But You always love more
lighting these hallowed halls Because You loved me first
many pilgrims walked their length Up from the grave with scars in Your hands
the last have gone—i never will Redeeming us, the ones who wanted Your end
You gave us grace, breaking our chains
You marked our victory with Your blood and pain
the future slips away in smoke
You chased after us when we ran away
while past glories crash around us
With open arms pierced by nails we made
I can sing for years
look at these columns of history
Praise You every word
walls greyed by time and worship But You always love more
Because You loved me first
tireless warriors strive for victory
facing blame and fruitless solutions You loved me before I was even born
You loved me as a sinner, shattered and torn
even now the unforgiving fire burns You loved me before I ever gave You praise
inside footprints that never were You loved me as You bled on the cross I made
And I can sing forever
Praising every word
someday, a footnote of history
Heaven’s Splender
But You always love more
today, the weary world’s sorrow
Anna Henderson Because You loved me first
14 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 15The Axe Forgets
by Chloe Wicker
I will teach my children how to cry. The axe forgets
How to release the tightness in their chest
Enough to name the emotions within You have more children.
What is one black sheep amongst so many golden ignorant?
No one taught me how to cry. What is one disillusioned, broken-hearted child?
A twelve-year-old should be able to weep
without becoming the villain The tree remembers
You said that second place was the first loser I was first to call you father.
But no matter how many times I succeed, no matter how many times I am first, What is one shattered childhood amongst the years of my life?
I am still your first born What is one missing piece from a heart you should have helped make whole?
I am still the first loser
The axe forgets,
You say that children have a sensitive meter when it comes to hypocrisy but the tree remembers
Maybe that is why I’ve questioned every word from your mouth Just Breathe
since I was old enough to understand Anna Henderson
that blood does not equal love
The tree remembers
The closest thing to a lie is a graceless truth
And I cannot remember the last moment you were tender
When did you say I love you as anything more than a farewell?
When did you express pride without qualification?
When did you ever accept your fault in this brokenness?
The hardest thing about a mirror is the sight of you
And I do not know how to separate my wounds from my healing
How do I keep my confidence from becoming your arrogance?
How do I keep my determination from becoming your harshness?
How to I keep my charisma from becoming your manipulation?
16 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 17when the Korean War broke out. (This combat with his company. If you know the
was long before it became “Last Chance classic TV show “M.A.S.H.”, that’s where
U.” in the ESPN documentary.) He, along wounded men were sent after Papa & his
with his entire team(!), went active duty in fellow medics stabilized them on the front
the military. There is a statue on campus lines. He also rarely talked about his time
commemorating them, which includes there, but a vivid memory for me is one
Papa’s name. He was trained as a combat time when he briefly mentioned it. He &
medic. I were getting some cattle feed to take to
Now, look at those smiles again before we his cows when a bag was dropped & made
go behind them a bit. a loud, strange noise. After just staring into
Dad was on a ship as part of the Invasion space for a brief moment, he looked at me
force heading toward Japan when we & said, “You know a sound that you can
dropped the Atomic bombs on a couple never forget?” [Me] “What’s that, Papa?”
of Japanese cities, which resulted in the [Him] “The sound of enemy machine gun
end of World War II in the Pacific theater. bullets hitting the side of the steep hill
Thus, he became part of the Army of right over your head as you’re tending to
Behind the Smiles the Occupation instead of the Invasion a wounded man.” That’s all he said about
force. His first duty post? Nagasaki. The it.
by Mike Madaris place where one of the two A-bombs was So, Dad saw the horrific aftermath of the
dropped. He never talked about all that A-bomb, and Papa lived out combat as a
he saw there, but I know that it was there medic with the bullets flying around his
See these two oh-so-handsome gentlemen? Both of them have had an deep in the corners of his mind. After all, head.
incalculable and ongoing impact on me (and on many others). Indeed, how could it not be?? And yet they still smiled.
they both continue to do so. Remember that Papa was a combat I don’t know how they could, but I’m
The one on the right is my beloved Dad, whose great faith became medic? To be specific, he was a front-line thankful that they both did so very often.
sight suddenly when I was just 15 years old and he was 14 years younger rifle company medic, meaning he was in
than I am now.
The one on the left is my beloved Father-in-Law. I spent over 35 years
in his orbit before his faith became sight just a few years back here in
Hattiesburg. (Some years ago, I joined his Grandchildren in calling him
“Papa”)
But note the uniforms. Two different branches of service and two
different wars, both of which brought terrible experiences (which, of
course, war does for all involved…). And yet, they still smiled. Perhaps
they were anticipating their future after the war…wives, children, jobs,
homes, friends, etc. Or perhaps they were simply coping.
Dad enlisted in the U.S. Army Air Corps (now the U.S. Air Force) in 1944
when he was in 11th grade when the U.S. was 3 years into World War
II. Whatever the reason, he stayed home in Lowndes County, Alabama
and completed high school and then his enlistment went active.
(Ironically, his basic training was at Camp Shelby in Mississippi, which is
about 15 miles down the road from where we now live in Hattiesburg!) Untitled
Papa was playing football at East Mississippi Community College Alysen Matthews
18 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 19Impermanence Garden Lesson
by Grant Guthrie by Grant Guthrie
Teach us to number our days. A garden is no worse for weeds,
The latter ensuring an epic struggle against Nature,
Man and sweat to wrestle fruit from the soil,
There are things more permanent Hard subsistence to justify the pains taken for existence.
On earth than our loose cohesion
Of atoms so lately settled; Anxious intent would scour the breadth of every plot
For intruders to devour, before roots could establish
Our recent bodies flung outright
Their depth beneath those of the nurtured elect,
From dust gathered in every corner, Intentions to tilt the scales in favor of the desire harvest.
The refuse of the garden now collected
To form the tissue of the spleen. But not for me! I want to feel my strength,
After fruit, thorn, and thistle have worked their struggled fates
Laws of matter manage the give and take
Together, in fair competition for soil and sun,
Of an equation never tipped in our favor. Into a tenuous cohabitation of all things fair and foul.
There is stone that has seen
A billion days and more men Only then, when the weeding is worth its volume of sweat,
To wrestle the refuse from its rightful place
Exhaust their lives in breaths
And nourish my unnatural dominion as man
That will nourish intercontinental trees. To bend a small world to his will.
One could make good use of humility,
A complimentary partner to our impermanence.
Sunset
Rebecca Ann Mowdy Paper Nature
Dailynn Davis
20 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 21Prism Burning Bridge Benjamin we go to Baton Rouge
by Meagan Smith by Loretta Fairley by Stephanie Arnold
Yesterday, Sometimes we burn a bridge I am at the point
I put on my going-out glasses. of barrenness in
The burgundy ones with the without realizing it MY RUTH
rhinestones in the corner.
holding on to
I thought Only when we look back
the sprouted seedling
What am I waiting for?
do we know something changed under the ground
or
wondering
I can’t wait forever.
but we don’t know why HOW LONG WILL I FEEL
or
THIS WAY?
I’m tired of waiting.
how
or
A mix of the three. and I hold the
or when little hand of
I didn’t spend the day my redeemer and
pushing them up my nose stare into his
We may never understand
or adjusting my sight smile that gives
around a scratch in the lens. but it forces a decision me purpose that
doesn’t sway with
And, when the sun HOW I FEEL ABOUT
reflected off the rhinestones, Rebuild MYSELF.
a prism of color or walk away
caught my attention. I thank God for
my valleys and YOU,
I didn’t mind the diversion. my boy, who has
I welcomed the jolt of joy
that comes from something
removed my easy
unexpected and painless.
escape and glued
me to this world
Today, though,
FOR CHANGESupplications Upon Reading 2020 Mankind Bumblebee
Kierkega ard’s Purity of Heart by Loretta Fairley by Loretta Fairley by Loretta Fairley
by Grant Guthrie A bumblebee drones around
Mass shootings Why must it be about
Keep us from our dreams. Teach us to will one thing. going everywhere
Their way leads on to many ends Our confession would unseal the division, political unrest straight or gay and nowhere
Always prophesying satiation Would reveal out disparate ends, I wonder what
pandemics
Yet never measuring to the stature of desire. Would unearth the many paths, some taken, black or white his purpose is
They turn ever more tightly about the truth, Some not, but all promising the fruition natural disasters
he seems so aimless
Without arrival, Of our orchestrated aims. feminist or chauvinist
social media so pointless
Shifting, changing color to compensate, We are not single, but
Dressed for any weather In our confession would shake off yadda conservative or liberal so meaningless
And ready, when satisfaction dictates These many bands just wasted energy
yadda old or young
To move toward more favorable climes. And be bound freely to faith’s singleness.
yadda I suspect God
fat or skinny
Encourage our feet to wander, Set our hearts in eternity,
looks at me
Never settling too soon in the land For we may never sift from time
atheist or believer and thinks the same thing
Or staking an impermanent home Sand enough properly to lay that foundation, Let’s you and I
Among stones and fields we will have to leave Stone enough rightly to build our own tower.
sit on the porch why can’t we just be
Again, to move more surely We had not expected such a cost -- - - - -
fellow human beings
To our surer destination. And have paid too dearly already drink coffee
Lean us to the pilgrim’s way. For longings we cannot keep.
and talk
Distract us from our comfort, Satisfy us with rest from our designs
while the birds sing
Our selected response, chosen And grant to our hands new labor
For its ease more than truth. That will not pass away. ------
Snowset Peace Bird Tree
Rachel Ann Farnham Rebecca Ann Mowdy
24 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 25España Not Downtrodden
by Michael DeLorenze by Rachel Ann Farnham
Student Interview Poem for She cannot eat as much here You slander my name in the street, Conversing with siblings and friends.
Spanish Artifact Project The food chokes her mouth with toxic poisons And mock my kin ‘neath a smile of teeth. My limit can only be found,
That her stomach does not understand You aim to show me my place here When I am told I am finished.
She sits in reserved patience So unlike the healthful abundance from home To knock me off my pedestal. Where I belong is determined
Excited that someone You think I reside in the clouds, By He who names eternal heirs.
asking for an interview One thing makes her pause from leaving here Conversing with birds and their sounds.
Is interested in her culture To go back to the beauty of Spain You say I know not my limits, My feet stand firm upon the Rock,
She sees freedoms That I seek what should not be mine. While you shake upon shifting sand.
We discuss greetings Stripped away by a dictator You claim I do not belong where I fly only with an eagle,
shaking hands, confused with The proper heirs spend their good time. And you climb high on your victims.
cheek kissing, “the norm” Safety is a feeling she craves He says to build others kindly,
In her beloved España She hopes one day In the street, I speak well of you, But you destroy them cruelly.
To have her España return to normal And your kin find in me a friend. You tell the world you are holy,
And her normal return with it My place I have known for some time, Yet your actions show what is true.
A pedestal it could not be. Focus on the task He gave you,
I reside upon solid ground, While I continue doing mine.
Awaiting Conversation Corner Wings
Christian Lovett Rebecca Thompson
26 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 27American Absalom
by Landon Adams
Forced across the ocean of innocence, The son usurped his father’s throne.
His sister was abused and disgraced. Now it was the king’s turn to flee.
Shackled by the grip of a man, Oppressed takes the place of oppressor,
Sharing blood but not resemblance. A vicious cycle seemingly without end.
Objective crime in a world of subjective judges, “For my sake, don’t harm the young man, Absalom,”
A privileged prince wearing daddy’s shoes. Commanded gentleness was a poor substitute for the father’s own
The king was angered but unmoved to action. love.
Justice was denied. Captain Joab never was one for orders.
Years of silence hardened the heart. A spear shattered the hardened heart,
Of the unwilling body hanging on the tree.
Venting his righteous anger,
Who could blame him for his crime? “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom!
The world’s evil embodied in a brother, Would I have died instead of you!
Justice served? Or Cain’s footsteps traced anew? “O Absalom, my son, my son”
Sent him down to Charon’s ferry, How hollow the words of David, the king.
Fled the scene with his nineteen men. Was this God’s best? Was this the chosen one?
The king was grieved but unmoved to action. No. This was not the man.
Brother against Brother. The true King roused himself from his holy dwelling.
Years of separation hardened the heart. Hanging helpless, another spear shatters another heart.
The perfect heart inside a willing body.
The distance great-the silence greater.
Outside intervention brokered peace in name alone. “O my son Adam, my son, my son Adam!
A divided house no more, so long as, I died instead of you!
The son stayed in his shack. By my death I have made a way for peace
Separated and unequal, he burned down his neighbor’s field. I have made one new man out of the two.”
His father’s attention for a moment to command,
The king was alarmed but unmoved to action.
Forgiveness, reconciliation, and justice all withheld.
Years of passivity hardened the heart.
28 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 29Me and You, Sonnet
Through the Seasons by Alayna Weathers
by Emily Branan
He stands against the smokestacks bruised,
Summertime with you is always a dream, just another “sorry, forgive me” speech.
year after year, there are nothing but smiles. My walls drop down, I let you back in, and while her ghost around him lingers;
Driving down hardy, blonde hair in the wind. fall back into your arms without a care.
Here on your right side, I look to the left, A man the war had long abused,
see you there and see you smiling at me. All too quickly, it is January.
with a lit cigarette between his fingers.
Our bodies find their way back together,
In a society of swiping right, But our hearts are still way too far apart.
real interaction is becoming rare. He rests with a gun beside his head—
Emotions are replaced by emojis, April comes, we have both pushed past the pain.
we put up walls to hide our feelings, so communication helps to regain trust, His enemies now are many;
love is rare, but is something we both share. Perhaps one day we’ll be as we once were. Inside Out
How lucky we are to be in love now, May flowers bloom. As they find the warm sun, Nightmares with him share the bed, Sage Pendergrass
at only seventeen, we have no worries, My heart finds his. We are whole once again.
But somehow have something tangible, real.
and his thoughts cost much more than a penny.
The hope of forever gleams in my eye.
Tonight, under the lights, your hand in mine,
I look to your blue eyes and know it’s true. At twenty-one, life is not quite as fun, He washes the blood from his calloused hands
It’s me and you. This love is forever. Bills, jobs, classes, take up time, but alas
summertime is here again. I look over and kisses his son good night;
Arguments, attitudes, and time apart, same street, same grey car, same blonde hair
Is how we spend our time in November blowing. Perhaps he’d have been a better man
You say our time is beginning to sour, Same smile, but just a little bit bigger.
I say, “we clearly want different things.” Same boy, but not the same love as before.
had they not sent him off to fight.
Driving down hardy, staring out, looking It is stronger, it has grown. Together,
tell my tears not to fall, they don’t listen. we have become who we now are today.
But a hand reaches down to pull him from the mud;
We have weathered sun, droughts, seasons,
December is here, everyone’s all cheer, and storms. By his side stand his brothers in arms and in blood.
but gloom lingers, wishing you were still here. We found our way, grew up, and grew in love.
Now, we both see forever, together.
December twenty-first, knock on my front door.
“Can we try again, I miss you so much”,
30 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 31Alice The Crossroads
by Alayna Weathers by DeWanda Dawn Hutchinson
I am like Alice— One tortured, tormented soul Was filled with happiness and joy
On every new page I meet Crying out from the deepened darkened pit That just could not be explained,
That many enter, but few escape, The other, death and destruction ran the way,
A brave Queen of Hearts.
Faced with innumerable consequences But the right way seemed so hard
Which way does she take? And the broad path looked so appealing,
Each word that I read Oh, which way should she go?
Tells me nothing other than One road is small and bumpy,
“All ways are my ways.” Filled with twists and turns, If only someone could hear her cry,
The terrain looks rough and very narrow, If only they could understand her pain,
The other much broader and easier on the eyes, But, sadly, they all pass by
Soul Screaming
Rebecca Lauren Thompson All her desires ripe for the taking Without so much as a glance
But which way does she choose? At this poor desperate soul
In her sea of misery and despair
Her mind tells her, “Go ahead...take the easy path, Pleading for just one to stop
Quest Books And help her find her destiny.
It will be okay, many before have and many more
by Sara Wedgeworth by Dailynn Davis will,”
Through the corridor But her heart tells her another story, She calls out but no one hears,
I do not always understand my books,
“Stick to the path, it may be tough, Her whole life flashes before her eyes
searching for the assigned seat;
Why do books bother to prove a point? But your reward will be eternal Life and death hang in the balance.
the seat to my quest
When I read I read to read for joy. With blessings to spare.”
In a world full of sin and lies
I do not read to read about who’s right. Vanity takes the prize,
The right or the left
I do not read to take a personal stance. Oh, which way to go, Hatred and deceit overwhelm
She must make a decision fast In this all about me world.
I read to get a glimpse of the writer,
If she wants her soul to last.
I want to wrap my mind around his words. No time to spare,
I don’t always want to know his meaning. Her heart starts racing With life quickly slipping
As her breathing becomes more shallow, Make your decision fast,
I want to read the words and let them be. Now your time of reckoning,
Hurry! For time is running out
Why can’t my books ever make sense to me? And she must quickly choose. Accept or reject
Your only two choices,
The right path, though tough as it may be Welcome....to the crossroads.
32 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 33Searching Ok ay
by Julia Berry by Julia Berry
Searching for answers but finding shapes and colors. Are you okay?
Searching for answers but finding adventure and She covers it with a smile.
mystery.
What if the purpose is self-discovery? Are you okay?
He hides it behind his work.
Maybe that is the true victory.
She runs from her own fears by asking others
Are you okay?
Friend’s Gesture Questions
Bethanie Wilson
by Virginia Fennell He escapes his own insecurities by ignoring the question
Any questions you may conjure, Are you okay?
Neglect the answers given;
What if we were honest to a fault?
Some will blindly seek Maybe we would experience true healing.
Where others fail to see
Everything is there, but hidden. Maybe the best prescription is saying
Read between the words and phrases I am not okay
So you’ll find the path within the mazes.
Paths
by Gabrielle Hulin
The straightest path is never fun,
The only direction you can go is one!
Adventures are much more interesting when paths
divide.
More paths offer a better ride,
Invertebrate This way all riders can be satisfied
Trinity Stewart
Holoferne
As one can then choose their destination. Bailey Adkins
34 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 35Wealth Tree
by Virginia Fennell by Raymond Smith
I do not have I am Tree.
a crumb to eat, I am rooted.
a drop to taste, Beneath me are unseen stories and dreams that no one can believe
shoes on my feet.
except me.
Holding me upright, each time the wind blows left to right.
A home on a hill,
a dollar to spend Keeping me held high even when my leaves hang low.
to buy a fence Keeping me from withering under the beam of the sun.
and keep my belongings in. I am nourished.
Still Life Watered by the hand of the Gardener.
I do not have Sydney D Myers
Watered under the stars.
a place to bathe,
a bed for sleep, Fed the purest.
a handed-down fortune I am selfless.
I’ll one day reap. Producing shade for the hot despite my being in the heat.
Being a representative of what’s greater than me.
But I have joy.
Only point to He.
I have a song in my heart, I Am.
a breath in my lungs, I am Tree.
a thought in my head,
and a sweater I, myself, spun.
You see,
I do not need
what others have
to always wear a smile.
Happiness is all around
And finding it’s worthwhile.
Brush Creek
Anna Henderson
36 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 37But none of that mattered that New Year’s This particular hero was sitting in Section
Eve. They were there to watch their much UB, Row 18, and either seat 19 or seat 20.
beloved Crimson Tide play football. The The boy’s Dad. The boy idolized his Dad,
short kid had cheered for the Tide for as & still does. Others who knew the Dad did
long as he could remember, dating back and do too.
at least 9 years. The Dad had cheered for This would be the only Alabama Crimson
the Tide a lot longer. Neither had ever Tide football game the boy and his Dad
attended the University, though the kid would attend together.
would do so in a few years. In truth: the Just 11 months later, the Dad would die
kid began cheering for the Tide mostly suddenly of a heart attack. And the kid’s
because the Dad did so. In short order, his world went gray. In some significant ways,
Dad’s fandom became his own. the kid’s world is still gray all these years
They shared some heroes, one of which later. There are parts of his soul and psyche
was head coach for the Tide. In fact, they that were wrecked and crushed by his
got to meet and shake hands with Coach Dad’s passing that haven’t been restored.
Bryant shortly after the game due to a Every kid—especially every boy—wants to
family connection. Their official seats were be welcomed into manhood by his Daddy.
Section UB, Row 18, seats 19 & 20. They When that doesn’t happen…when it can’t
wound up sitting just beneath the press happen…when it will never happen…the
box in an unsuccessful attempt to stay dry. world never quite seems to get fully back
They watched a fantastic game between in order.
two very good teams. In fact, Alabama But there are glimpses of that order and of
had already been named the U.P.I. National a long-promised, long-awaited restoration.
Champion; back then, the champions were 19 years after that Sugar Bowl game, the kid
voted on before bowl games commenced. went to another bowl game in New Orleans
T wo Tick et St ubs The game went back and forth, as often with another man he deeply admired.
happens on a wet and sloppy field. Coach Once again, Alabama was playing in a
by Mike Madaris Bryant would say later that it was the best big game against a powerful foe. Once
game he was ever part of, as a player or a again, it was the Sugar Bowl. The Alabama
coach. Crimson Tide v. the Miami Hurricanes this
It’s just two football ticket stubs. Specifically, two 47-year-old football The short kid would agree. But not because time. Though Miami had the Heisman-
ticket stubs. of the game’s outcome. Notre Dame won, winning QB then, Alabama destroyed
December 31, 1973. A rainy night in New Orleans, LA at the old Tulane 24-23, on a late field goal. Alabama had them, dominating in every phase of the
Stadium. An epic showdown between two storied college teams downed a punt on Notre Dame’s one-yard game, winning a National Championship in
coached by two legendary coaches. Notre Dame Fighting Irish v. line, but couldn’t keep them hemmed in. the process.
Alabama Crimson Tide. #3 v. #1. Ara Parseghian v. Paul “Bear” Bryant. The Irish were able to run out the clock. But that’s not why this is near the top of
There were future college coaches dressed out & playing in that game. So, why did this kid think this was the best the kid’s favorite-game-ever list. The kid
There were also future NFL Hall of Famers playing. game he ever saw? Because there was was sitting next to his Father-in-law this
And there was a short kid with a bad haircut up in the stands, sitting a hero of his in the house. Not Coach time. Thus, the kid’s tears were discrete—
with his Dad. Also in their group were a couple of aunts and a cousin. Bryant, although he was a hero of the kid’s. but still very present—as he both treasured
(All were wearing Crimson.) The boy wanted to wear his hair long like Not John Mitchell or John Hannah or John the moment with another of his heroes and
his peers were doing. The Dad preferred high & tight. The compromise Croyle, though they were (& are) heroes of role models, and as he ached with longing
was not a thing of beauty. the kid’s too. to rewind the clock back to the 1973 Sugar
38 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 39Bowl one more time and shake a Crimson I remember, Dad. I still miss you hard and Words
& White shaker alongside his Dad. often. Thanks for 15 years of absolutely by Darian McCord
Recently, the kid and his beloved wife
were going through some boxes, and fantastic Daddying! I’m a cheap knockoff I want to cover the world with my words
he rediscovered a treasure. Two ticket of you in every regard, but your two If I had a pen to write on the earth
stubs. “40th Annual Sugar Bowl Classic.”
grandkids who grew up in my house are I’d put the thoughts of men like a tapestry
“December 31st, 1973.” “Section UB, Row
18, Seat 19” & “Seat 20.” And the memories fantastic, despite their non-fantastic Dad. Words on earth like a masterpiece
flooded back again. As they do every Like you, I married an amazing Bama coed. The ocean would be a violent epic over and over
football season. And every December. The lines of waves crash on the shore like a tattooed shoulder
A couple of months ago was the 46th Speaking of your grandkids, you’d be very
Written on the water is all tragedies
anniversary of my Dad’s passing. pleased to know that I’ve attended bowl
My hope is that 40 years from now, any Every awful thing that has infected me
games with your 3rd grandson in recent
number of little boys will be hearing from The grass would be a fairytale springing from the ground
their Dads about the Bowl game when years as we watched his alma mater play.
With each young growth come up, a word to keep it down
they sat next to their Dad and watched I can very easily picture you wearing Red Lined on all its blades is every fantasy
their beloved Crimson Tide play. (Or their
& Blue and cheering on your grandson’s The thoughts of what I am and what I dream to be
beloved Notre Dame Fighting Irish or Ohio
State Buckeyes, or whomever is their team Rebels for all but one game every Fall. The mountains would be a list as tall as it could be
of choice.) (This particular grandson is named after Its unforgiving slopes are just a canvas to me
Just as I’ve been remembering that game
you, by the way.) Scribed onto the mount are all the ones I love
47 years ago when my Dad & I sat there in
Section UB, Row 18, seats 19 & 20. The I love you, Dad. See you soon. Can’t wait! The names of every person that I am made of
ticket stubs are just pieces of card stock Roll Tide! Thanks. Then I saw the desert, an endless notebook
paper. The memories they evoke are rich More space than I imagined from everywhere I looked
and amazing and priceless. Mike
I took out my pen to write down everything I could think
And I was shocked to find that it had no ink
Then I realized why I could write not
The barren desert holds everything I’ve forgot
I woke up from my dream with the pen still in my hand
And I begin to weep, for I was surrounded by bare land
The world began anew with another day
Leaving every cherished word I’ve written erased
I cast away the pen and went to go outside
But a ring from behind me made me change my mind
The clock was ticking loud, blank as it could be
And it looked just like a canvas to me
Why write on the world? It changes all the time,
Grate
The clock looks like a canvas with the power to change a life.
Allison Chestnut
40 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 41Holy Name
by Darian McCord
When the smiles turn into a worried frown
And the wedding dress turns into a hospital gown
There’s nothing you can do but you can’t let it be
And you can’t stand so you’re on your knees
When the trembling hands begin to fold
And the tired eyes finally close
You’ve got no power but still want change
And your stammering tongue starts to pray
“Oh Father which art in heaven
How can it be I’ve forgotten
That the Lord gives and He takes away
Blessed be Your holy name”
There isn’t much I can do
But there never really was
I’ll finally give up control
To a God that always loves
And when the things the world has taken
Are the ones I love the most
I will put all my love
In a God who is in control
Oh Father which art in heaven
How can it be I’ve forgotten
You are the God of mercy
The only One who can restore me
Chapel You’ve carried me through everything
Clay Graves
Even when I’m on my knees
The Lord gives and He takes away
Blessed be your holy name
42 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 43Unfailing Love Vertigo
by Rose Bruce by Chloe Wicker
As I ponder over a world of strife, I learned to speak love slowly
I think of how we toil through life.
I think of the loving, caring, and easy to please; This language came with my birth
and those who criticize, condemn, and tease. Written, carved into my bones
But no less difficult to translate
For some it’s easier to look for fault,
and overlook the lessons taught.
No one teaches you
We are to be kind one to another,
Remembering lessons from Father and Mother How to walk to the edge of a cliff
Look down the jagged face of it and
Our lives should be reverent, happy, and free, Keep yourself from hurling downwards
that’s why our Savior was nailed to the tree.
That’s why God sent us his son,
I carry the grammar of love with me
So, we all could live together as one.
These words come with my passion
So, at night when I lay down to rest,
That’s when I think of how much I’m blessed. Stamped, branded onto my tongue
And thankful for our Savior above, But never to spill into the realm of sound
For salvation he gave from a heart of love.
No one can teach you
Our Lord made the supreme sacrifice.
How to walk up to edge of hurt
He carried our cross, he paid our price.
Look into eyes that do not love you and
One day Gabriel will call us home,
Keep yourself from drowning in them
And everyone will know that I have gone.
Gone to a place that Jesus prepared,
A place where love floats in the air.
The trumpet will sound with a mighty blast,
Praise God! I’m home, I’m home at last.
Night Lines Koi Pond
Deanna Roberts Deanna Roberts
44 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 45UnMasked
by Jennifer Scroggins
One day we will look back at the mask we wore,
And remember the lives of those who aren’t anymore.
The price we paid in the struggle to survive,
Always amazed of how small things create a greater divide.
Future
Even in through the pandemic the cries rose for equality,
by Gabrielle Hulin
And we found ways to clash about true meanings of liberty.
What are you doing with your life?
Xikrins Boy The cries for justice and the cries for peace,
I don’t know. Leanna Grace Blakeslee
As the world was swarmed by the silent beast.
But aren’t you an adult?
Healthcare workers met with a magnitude of distress,
Legally.
While holding the hands of strangers as they crossed over into eternal rest.
And aren’t you in college?
The world in turmoil struggling to bridge the divide,
I am.
When what was hidden by our mask was the glimpse of a smile.
And you’re not an undecided major?
But how do you find the strength to smile in the midst of isolation,
No, I’m an English major.
Where is the smile in the midst when diversity is seen as aggravation?
Don’t you like your English classes?
No one will listen and determined to be right,
Sometimes.
While the smile hidden and become a dim light.
Well, what are you going to do with your degree when you finish?
Once again we are faced with a mission to recover,
I don’t know.
In the midst of the beast who silently continues to hover.
Do you want to teach?
A true normalcy may never come,
I don’t feel good enough to teach.
But we will adjust to the beat of a new drum.
Do you want to be a journalist?
And as we all set into familiar and new respected places,
I don’t like writing nonfiction.
We must honor and remember those deeply cherished faces.
Why can’t you just pick what you want to do already?
Because I like lots of things, but since I’m not the best at
anything, I don’t feel like I have the skill to do anything.
Then why are you an English major?
Because everyone else told me I’m good at it.
46 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 47before sunset like a black armada out of light. My eyes narrowed as I watched her,
the west, smothering the setting sun and for I was struck suddenly by the realization
flooding the stale air with the welcome that she was not wearing shoes. Leaning
aroma of petrichor. I had heard the thunder further toward the glass, I noted a second
from my armchair, grumbling irritably like a shocking detail: the woman was dressed
company of old men come to lament the in but a shift, a frail undergarment barely
failings of the young. Like a soft voice in suited for wearing in the privacy of her
my ear, it had bid me move my chair closer home, let alone wandering the streets at
to the window, that I might wait and watch. night. I felt my face growing hot, and would
I saw nothing in the street some several have turned away at once, had a stone
floors below my chamber save for the dim beneath the woman’s foot not turned
reflection of water running in little streams suddenly treacherous. I gasped along with
between the paving stones. Weariness her as she fell, her lantern flung into the
nagged at me as I spared a glance at the gutter where it died with a feeble hiss.
clock on the mantlepiece, which declared I was still dressed from my day at work,
the time to be several hours past when I and so had only to throw a cloak around
ought to have gone to bed. My mind and my shoulders before hastening down the
body declared rather the same notion, and stairways to the front door of my home. I
179 Skulls
Alysen Matthews with a feeling of vague disappointment I left fear the sudden flooding of light into the
my chair and made to fasten the shutters. street as I flung open the door must have
I should have guessed such an action would frightened the poor woman, for at once her
summon the woman. Even as my hands near-successful attempt to rise from the
fumbled wearily with the latch, I saw her sodden ground failed, and she fell again
coming down the street. I did not know why into a soaked and tangled heap. I hurried
A M a sk of R a indrops the sight of her so excited and intrigued me, to her, and offered my aid, uttering many
for she looked the same as ever, a fair young inane apologies even as she muttered
by Thomas Ford woman of perhaps twenty, tall and willowy, thanks which the rain would not permit me
with dark hair spilling out of the hood that to hear.
could not contain it. The paleness of her Lorna was her name, I learned, and it
narrow face made her easy to spot even in sounded pretty to me. I offered my own
As I watched the fat grey raindrops roll with sluggish indifference down watery darkness, an almost luminous pallor in return, and was glad to hear her speak
the misted windowpane, my night-wearied thoughts wandered to the which, I confess, had made me consider it, if only in a hushed, embarrassed tone.
woman, as they so often did when storm clouds swallowed moon and for one startling moment when first I had She had not been badly harmed by her
stars. laid eyes on her that she might have been a stumble, I was glad to learn, though her
I had seen her on numerous occasions through the selfsame window phantom. Her eyes were brighter still, and knees were bruised, and the palms of her
through which I peered on that dismal evening, always at night, and appeared almost too large for her head, hands had been somewhat scraped. She
always during a storm, reminding me of some fabled Nymph or Nereid though they were lovely and captivating, politely declined my offer of ointment and
awoken from enchanted sleep by the music of rain and thunder. It was one bottle green and the other a startling bandages, saying she was in something of
a fanciful notion, and I kept it to myself. Indeed, I kept all knowledge of electric blue. a hurry, which I gathered, given that she
the woman to myself, and if any of my neighbors possessed knowledge She moved with haste over the slickened was steadily edging further down the road.
of her, they, too, refrained from sharing it. cobblestones, clutching at her cloak with I offered to summon her a carriage and was
I wondered if I would catch some glimpse of her that night, as conditions one hand while holding aloft with the other again declined. Just as I had begun to fear
were prime for her appearing. The thunderheads had rolled in just a frail lantern that lit her path with milky my actions may have unnerved the woman
48 Th e IN DIGO 2021 The I N D I G O 2021 49You can also read
