The ocelot clawed her way out of the river and joined her fellow defenders at the roots of a rowan.
Yesterday, the water polo season came to a close.
They huddled together and the general spoke some parting words.
We lost our game, and took third in state. We closed the predicted gap between us and the team we lost to by over half.
The bobcat called loudly, and the others echoed in turn. The ocelot bowed her head as they chanted, and golden drops of liquid emotion mingled with the sweat of her labors.
As we cheered our cheer for the final time, I cried.
The flamingo passed as the ocelot watched, and as the fishing cat paced along, she paused. The ocelot embraced her dear friend, knowing that they would only see each other once or twice more.
So many friends are gone. So many more are leaving.
As the ocelot watched from her tree, her eyes glistened. For the end of this season's defenders meant much more. It heralded another end, one that the ocelot found much harder to face.
Six years. It won't ever be the same.
The ocelot looked to the far horizon, seeing a second sunset. It wasn't her sunset, and it wasn't really the second. It would be far from the last sunset. The colors flashed brighter than she had ever seen, and the final light trickled onto the backs of more than it had when she had watched before. The flamingo waded downriver, and the fishing cat bounded away into the mists. The bobcat faded, leaving only a half-image. Almost like ghosts, the badger and the wolfhound appeared somewhere in the distance, if only for a moment. Somewhere a mighty bird called. The sunlight drained from the sky, and the ocelot wept again.
3 comments:
such is life. would that i could stay in the security of a moment. but it's not the purpose.
i hate goodbyes.
The tomcat offers his condolences. He knows what it's like to say good bye, too, and if he didn't think he'd get a pawful in the face, he'd give you hug. Our senior year is, for all intents and purposes, upon us. We can only walk the banks of our mighty river for so long before a new land of plenty calls us each. We all have that instinct. If anything, my dear Ocelot, remember the song Mr. Melville brought in. "Gravity" by Embrace.
I'm getting better about the whole hug thing. If I have ample warning I tend to keep myself passive about it. Thanks for the thought, Ami.
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