Jillian Loman: Parts i. and ii.

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i.

Umber-tinted twilight clouds cast
an umbra on Jillian where she strolled
a vast open field with her sister,

And the wind blew their flaxen hair,
and the clouds rolled over the dry-footed
flax pasture of paling grasses,
which stood paling-straight,
through each and every flurry
hurrying the girls' gait.

It was just past May and perfectly warm there,
where it's not broiling 'til late, late June.

A brume on a nearby hillside became a vaunting spectre,
which was sure to drench had it an eye for their field.

"Jilly, I wish we'd brought the brolly,
it seems the thunderheads are coiling."

Heather reached for her sister in the wind
as the rain held, yet minor minutes from downpour.

"Silly, what would the brolly do
against these whipping winds?
Unless there's something holy here,
to keep the wind from clipping
the fabric from the stick."

Jillian and her sister Heather,
still surprised by the roiling weather,
crossed the crick—stone by stone,
to get to where the forest met the road.

They'd walk the road to get to their friend's home,
there in the country, where lightning
would soon be enlightening the night,
and all of the western border
of the town of Starlight.

"Heather do you love him?
Do you think of him at night,
or in the early morning—on a whim,
does he bring you vim exuberance?"

Heather replied,

"Sister, he's been our William in friendship,
so faithfully, and we've loved him so, loyally.
In fact, he'd be no closer had he been our blood
and our brother; and our very own father
sings his praises, lyrically."

The wind seemed to get caught up with Heather's exuberance
and plunged in upon them. So she pulled her sister with her,
as Jill seemed to dawdle when in converse—Heather continued,

“But how I do now sing differently,
of my dear William—amatorially.
It was less than a year's time
that how I felt for our chosen brother altered,
and we became wooers to only each other."

So it began, the rain rushed the girls' movements,
and made its demands.
They reached a drainage ditch which separated
pasture from road. Heather jumped across with difficulty,
slipping and nearly tumbling into the muddy water.

"Jilly, take my hand,
I'll help you cross this ditch.
It isn't so bad, this soaking;
we'll soon be warm and at home,
since we still can call his home,
our home away from home."

Jillian replied,

"I'd call all this glebe we stand upon,
all this land and soil,
the flooring of our second home.
Over there, that shallow pond,
I'd call a vast cistern, which services
these bushes and trees from thistle to frond;
which are finer ornaments either donned in green
or as part of a Fall scene."

The pair laughed and ran on the wet pavement
toward their friend's home.

ii.

Rows of conifer, confer in ordered rows,
conforming to a family farm.
Where one season's left the fields barren,
after droves of folk had stumped for their tree
with their family.

Then the fields had been filled,
with more than trees—a vibrant expectation.

"Should we knock?"

"I don't suppose it's locked,
and we've always just entered—
but it is late, so tap the bell."

William opened the door on two dripping twins,
save he knew their difference more so in personality
than in appearance.

The young man spoke,

"You two, are wet through
and making a pool on my porch...
Come in, you two don't need to placate
the common tradition among neighbors.
Here you will never arrive late, nor early,
as here you are always on time."

Heather nuzzled William's cheek,
making it wet and immodest.
While Jillian stood abaft,
before entering abashed
and conscious of her own lips.

The sisters stripped away the damp in William's room.
Jillian thought she detected the scent of her sister's perfume,
there in the bed sheets and in the air.

She brushed her hair, bare, without make-up.
She paused in the mirror, recalling her own mother's hands.
Meanwhile, Heather met William in the kitchen.

"Heather, are you hungry? I'd toss you an apple,
if you'd only assure me that you'd catch it—
and not let mine bruise, to catch another's fruit."

She put her arms around his neck
before whispering her reply,

"My boy, I'd catch your apple,
or your pear, or your orange;
and if I dropped your apple,
I would bear your bruise.
Though I do hope you are aware,
that I'd never choose, care to, nor presume
that I am even capable of wounding you."

William smiled faintly before making a more serious reply,
past the light banter.

"But you do not know,
how I am apart when you depart—
my home or my car for the evening.
I then face a confinement,
and chase your image as my mind tires,
there your refined beauty slips into my subconscious—
where I remain apart until you return to me."

She smiled and kissed his neck,
resting against him, and supported by the kitchen counter.

As Jillian stood dreaming,
she beamed to remember
that it would soon be her birthday.
The thought brought sensation teeming,
from her toes to her head,
that she was finally going to turn eighteen.

"Will I be more serious than at seventeen?
Will I be looked upon as a lady,
and become a woman like my sister,
or like my mother was?

"Will Daddy still count my baby teeth,
or my height in inches?
Will he still call me 'girl' or 'doll'?

"I'd find it appalling, for anyone else to call me 'doll'...
But here I am stalling, my stomach pleas for me to eat."

Jillian entered the kitchen, where they were embracing—
her sister and William. She overheard him whisper,
and felt their hearts racing from across the room.

"The first sight of you, has always made me stutter,
when I first can speak again."

Jillian thought,

Here I'm blue, in envy,
sinning against my kith and my kin;
because they hold their happiness so close.

Had she been the elder she knew
he'd have given her his heart as freely—
and his blood would pulse through his arteries
as quick for her, as hers did then for him, unrequited.

William first noticed the lither half of the Loman sisterhood
as she stood by the counter appearing chilled, almost frail.
There she made a ring in the flowers his mother
had left on the table.

He spoke,

"Jillian, you do graduate soon,
will you go abroad this summer,
then join us in the Fall?"

Heather replied for her sister,
still pressed against her boyfriend,

"William, she hasn't decided.
Daddy's said she can go to Greece,
if she'd just grant him release
and declare where she's going—
to University or College."

She grew quickly discontented,
to be pestered once again.
So she kept her tongue still for all words,
but mobile for a banana.

Her silent session ceased,
after Will begged her to lease her thoughts
and put them in her own terms.

She spoke,

"I have my Greek lessons.
I'd like to go to Athens, then the isles,
and I plan on going to college...
But I'll keep it my secret!
And Daddy will continue to count my baby teeth,
and my beloved sister may bellow a rann against me—
still, I won't grant her the knowledge."

This outpouring made William and Heather riant,
whether Jillian was capriciously dour, or half-sour;
and they spent the next hours laughing on memory
of their childhood pleas—to be taken seriously.

When it was time for bed, Jillian asked William
whether he'd still paint her a picture for her birthday.

"Yes, of course Jill, but wouldn't you like something nice,
since you're grown...we've grown, and we can pay whatever price
to get you something thrice as sweet."

Not a trice second ticked on the living-room clock
before she replied to Will,
that she wouldn't be as thrilled
to receive something he did not create.

"I keep them all, Will. They are close to me,
as close as my friendship to you;
and I still believe you'll be a great artist,
to be listed with Klee, Cassatt, and even Liszt.
If it isn't so, I'd grieve and abhor such a pitiful world."

She sat alone with him in his living room,
as her sister had already parted for his bedroom.

"Jillian, your friendship affects me and lightens my head.
Your allure and kindness are such to match in their symmetry—
where your beauty remains paralleled only by your sister's.
Now I state, 'goodnight', and it will be a gift to see you tomorrow."

Will left for his room to join his love, her sister;
and Jillian continued to blush at his kind words toward her,
as her head hit her pillow.

Where lightning met the night outside the bedroom window,
William met his ingenue beside her on his pillow.

She traced his mouth with her pointer.

"How you love me, I can tell from the way
that I satisfy your wanting
with an innocent peck, yet
I can only waylay your desire
with a kiss that is brought full-lipped;
as I too cannot stay the craving for more."

And Will held her hip,
bussing each her eyes,
before settling on her lip,
and laying bare the day's guise.

Heather continued as he embraced her,

"My Jillian is lonely...a sister's intuition of her sister.
Will you, William, be close to her a bit;
and help me curb her split from happiness?"

Will replied,

"Lest we become her pests, I'd agree,
and I do confess I've felt her sadness and see the wall—
between her and her old self;
and I'd soon give anything, to alleviate the pall."

There they were soon dreaming,
as the storm loomed upon other country towns
and northern cities.

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