Diane Passero



You once swam under the lily pads like a fish in search of a fly
where from that view you believed you could inspect the lotus
flowers. But you could not see what you wanted to see
for they only bloomed above the surface, not below.
What did Monet feel as he painted his daughters at Giverney
gently placing them in the rowboat only providing them
with the sun and a fishing pole?

The intimacy of the rowboat touched the purity and majesty of the lotuses
as the oars gently broke the water surface displacing the stillness.
When one is sitting in a rowboat floating amidst the serenity of the lotuses
maybe one would like to fish but cannot. The feel of the boat gently
swaying with the movement of the water hypnotizes and the boat
becomes very small and intimate.

You reach for the plastic container, holes punched in the lid,
a refuge for the worms you kept in the refrigerator the last two
days and place it on the seat next to you. But the worms remain untouched
as you share your dreams with your father, whisper secrets in your sibling’s ear,
reminisce about first kisses with your best friend, or attempt to explain how the feel
of grass pressing against your back arouses you to your lover. So, maybe
you will remember this day for 40 years or more now that the worms are virgins …

All this transpires while the lotus silently blooms by day, closes by night.
But we are not a delicate flower and we do not close at night like a lotus.
At night… this is when we reflect on the intimacy of rowboats.


DIANE PASSERO is a legal assistant who has a General Studies degree from IUSB with a minor in Creative Writing. She focuses her writing on poetry and flash fiction. Her work has appeared in Analecta, Driftwood Press, Muddy River Poetry Review, The Birds We Piled Loosely, and The Laurel Review.