Elaine
was the 1 to, inexplicably, love
the doctor.
Doctress,
she had been covertly ridiculed, called
Doctress.
Elaine
laughed in the meadow as if she were 15 and
scarcely knowing what love was but hoping to above
all.
At
15 Elaine had fallen in love with every actress she
had seen whose talent she deemed worthy. Elaine
strictly judged, however swift, and buoyant,
and fair. She was swift,
she was hopeful, but she was not forgiving.
Elaine
laughed as Violet strummed dramatically
lifting the curtain on Elaine's dream
grown from a girl's vivid hope which
had been called expectation, grown out of that
sheltered cusp held secret within her girl's
heart wherever it was now, beating,
beating,
beating within her not
an echo or an answer, not a memory, but beating
within her prehensile with her essence inextricably it was her essence
as every child is cusp of the woman, not
memory.
Have
you seen the fluttering wing of a downed bird?
It has the heart's rhythm.
It was here,
now, beating in the leaves over the meadow, and
in the shimmering of the meadow grasses. Now,
when Elaine began to show her love.