The Quarry Poem by Jacqueline Czel

The air and time stood still, as
did black crows watching from
the birch trees with beady eyes,
waiting for me to sink further
into the water after dislocating
my shoulders while diving, so I
could appease them by drowning
at 16 and passing into the next
realm where I'd walk with spirits
along the layered stone ledges but
sometime after the slate gray water
covered my eyes, ears and wild
hair and I settled into the fluid
void that encapsulated my whole
being, I felt a pair of determined
hands hauling me upwards, pulling
me back from a watery grave with
incredible force towards bright
halos and the hot summer sun.