Arms to the sky, legs flung wide, she launches
her budding body into the deep end.
His camera snatches her, mid-air.
She does not seek his eye but paddles
with a gasp and a laugh to poolside.
She leaps again and he rewinds the film.
Back at home he will mount and frame
his prints, exhibiting them
to family and friends.
She will leave the room, as she glimpses
another image, behind her father’s eyes.
Jinny Fisher
This poem was Commended in the FRP Competition 2014/5
Jinny Fisher lives in Ditcheat, Somerset. She started writing in 2006 and has twice been longlisted for the Bridport Prize, published in The Journal, Battered Moons anthology (2014), on Nutshells and Nuggets and she will be in the June (2015) issue of The Interpreter’s House. Previously a classical violinist and teacher, she is in private practice as a psychoanalytic psychotherapist and supervisor.