Timeless Place

Rings sparkle golden on the windowsill,
my hands in dishwater,
metal chain between my fingers, I
pull the rubber plug and water spins downward;
a murky spiral of food bits
and sparkling rainbow bubbles.
My mind swirls toward the timeless place
where today is the same thing as yesterday,
and I plunge my hand one last time to the lukewarm bottom
groping to rescue a spoon from the disposal.
I see the water twist, drawing my hand down the drain.
That must have been how it looked to them:
Standing together, dripping laughter on the bank.
His feet left the rock. Everyone saw
his glorious grin, the droplets around his body,
sun behind him, a rainbow glow around him,
his head touching the surface first. The water opened-
coldly welcomed 17-year-old spider arms, legs;
kissing his skin so wetly they could feel the chills
--then closed, gulping him like syrup;
blue-green smoothly coming together
to form a bubbling swell behind his feet, seamless,
small flecks of water balancing in the air above.
They stood
---droplets rolled across their skin
--- waited
---dried.
Everyone else had miraculously bobbed up.
I'm sure time ticked louder; shore-bound hearts
beating, thunderous (to make up for the one that was not.)
His sister, she held her breath,
watching the liquid swirl where he'd been.
In her head she formed thoughts she hoped were magnetic
- willing him out of the river.
She watched a flash, a golden fish of light,
play off particles held just below the surface.
Her eyes followed the spark till it disappeared,
muscles tense against the desire to jump.
A long time they stood: looking, expectant,
at water they'd trusted.
She touched the solid blue cold,
watching the surface meander in circles,
randomly swallowing sticks,
feeling blueness drain off her warmth.
The surface bulges, whirls into a hollow-centered funnel.
My hand rises out of the sink,
spoon curled in my fingers;
when I look, my rings shine still on the sill.