SECOND PLACE


susan niz
pockets of air

  

Maybe the reason I love watching those dramatic rescue videos is that I’m well practiced in seeking pockets of air while the car tips and sinks in the lake.

I was in that slowly submerging trap for twenty years, and mostly I folded down the lighted visor and touched up my lipstick and sang lullabies about the moon
to my kids, strapped in securely in the backseat. 

I remember these glimpses of beauty like spotting a pileated woodpecker
when we walked around Schulz Lake. It was a sign, of course. 

One time I bought a pink journal with strawberries on it. It came with matching pencils. I was with you, driving us home. I felt the tiniest of joy, as I imagined writing important little things in that notebook, like SOS messages for a bottle.

Every found agate, every crystal, every butterfly wing. Every Texas wildflower—a pocket of air. No one showed up. No hyperventilating rescuer, hip deep,
with a hatchet. I just swam through an inch-wide crack into frigid water,
my children pulled by fingertips behind me.

Susan Niz has two poetry chapbooks: Beyond this Amniotic Dream (Beard Poetry, 2016) and Left-Handed Like a Lightning Whelk (Finishing Line Press, 2019). Her work has appeared in places such as Ponder Review, Blue Bonnet Review, Belleville Park Pages, Ginosko, The Freshwater Review, and Summerset Review.

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