I lean my head back and look up
at the cornflower sky with its endless dazzle
and squint my eyes against it.
I remember what a high-diver friend of mine
once said- she confused the blue of the sky with
the pool while doing a simple jump,
how something went wrong,
the way it always does with simple things,
and that was the end of her dreams.
I thought how scary that was-
confusing the air you breathe
with the ground you placed your feet on.
Yet, looking up there
I begin to wonder how deep the sky is,
how long it takes for one to drown in it.
I sit back abruptly forward
afraid I might get pulled in the whirlpool of blue
and escape by a hair’s breadth
as I take my surroundings in.
Sunlight in a burnt-orange color
drips over everything,
and my chrysanthemum has finally blossomed
for the first time in seven years.
The steam of my forgotten chamomile tea
curls above the sunshiny-amber liquid surface
to make a perfect circle
and to eventually dissolve in the mellow air.
The shape disappears
and hides between the rustling leaves
of the sugar maple tree in my small backyard
to join them in their dance
to the autumn windy melody.
I smile over the rim of my cup,
the porcelain spreading warmth
through my fingertips.
It trickles down and joins the light
dancing on my forearms,
until it settles on my chest.
My twelve-year-old labrador picks up a twig
to play with and casts me a look,
searching for approval.
I glance at my phone
and it suddenly grows bigger
threatening to take up the entire garden table
I’d discarded it on. It’s a giant black hole
that inevitably colors my peripheral vision
and its dead screen reminds me
happiness can never be in one place.
It’s that one reminder,
coming on a late Tuesday afternoon
when you least expect it,
the hint that your world’s healing
while your dog’s chewing on a broken twig.
I pick up the impossibly heavy object
and press the “delete contact” button.
Again.
Evgeniya Dineva is a bi-lingual writer from Bulgaria. Her works appear in various literary journals such as The Trouvaille Review, Poetic Sun, Indian Ruminations, Ethel and Asian Cha. She's currently working on her second novel, which is going to be traditionally published under a pen name.