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Straight-backed, clean-limbed, freckled like a trout
she stands at the edge of the high board —
defiant and ashamed at once ¬— conscious
of our eyes on her, this diver all of seventeen
whose body is a beauty she can barely comprehend.
The boys shout insults, shove each other
in their awkwardness, half awed that she would step out
on the trembling board to risk our gaze
and the water’s bright enticement, smooth but hard
beneath her. Their catcalls echo off the walls.
I cannot tell you how she looks, poised on the cusp
of adolescence, this girl fading into the woman
she’ll become, sylph-like in her tight suit,
hair a frazzled halo, arms held up like a sleepwalker
trying to contain herself and blot out their cries.
Now she pivots like a dancer, gripping the board
with her toes, and rises as it quivers with her weight
then settles again. She waits until it stops,
until she gathers herself up to balance there,
tall and undeniable, her back to us in the withering light.
Suddenly her knees bend, spring up, and bend once more,
then toss her up and out into the shocked air
where she clasps her knees between her arms
like a fetus rolling backward in a perfect arc,
then lets them go again and straightens in a long fall.
And then her fingers tear the water open and her body
disappears into the pool, nothing but a splash
to mark where she once was, and the boys turn
to one another, hushed, feeling their own bodies
falling perilously through childhood, past mockery into love.
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Copyright 2025 the estate of Kurt Brown
Kurt Brown (1944-2013) was a highly regarded poet, editor, and literary activist. He founded the Aspen Writer’s Conference, now called Summer Words, in 1976. It was there that he met his wife, Belgian-American poet Laure-Anne Bosselaar. He was the author of several full-length poetry collections, including I’ve Come This Far to Say Hello: Poems Selected and New (Tiger Bark Press).
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nothing but a splashto mark where she once was,
Such a gorgeous seemingly simple image – so Kurt Brown.
Much love Laure-Anne.
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This is not the first of Kurt’s poems to make me cry. How grateful I am that he left us his poems — I miss him.
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As others have noted, this is truly a beautiful and accomplished poem. Many thanks for posting it.
Would that we could more often, in our daily lives, move past mockery into love.
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How beautiful this is! The internal rhymes are subtle but heard making an exquisite music. The delicacy of the description creates a powerful metaphor, a kind of bildungsroman compacted into a poem. And the transformation of the emotions in it is a marvel, from the diver’s courage (“defiant”) and fear (“ashamed”) into the grace of her dive and the adolescent boys from awkward and–dare I say?–defensive into love. Just wow.
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Perfect description, Mike. Thank you!
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This religious in its love of the world. I hear Herbert and Hopkins dancing in Kurt’s voice. So much beauty.
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Oh, yes. A poem that finds beauty in a simple moment.
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The beauty of a simple moment ripples through the world.
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Kurt, I’m past writing like that but the chill still rolls as I read such beauty.
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Spectacular poem, Laure-Anne, like your love.
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Thanks you my Miche!
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Oh, what a poem. Oh, the awkwardness of youth. Oh the poise of the girl on the five-meter board to hush them. So much to unpack here. But it’s greatest merit is its language. The whole poem is a metaphor.
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My first visit to this poet, and what a greeting he gives. Kurt Brown showed how to draw our attention to his crafted young woman, (and the surrounding tableaux of immaturity), through her artistry, her splash, the numinously redemptive final line. Thanks so much.
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Well-said, Jim.
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Sometimes I am stunned by what can be done with words. Caught in the moment, I come back up through the metaphor changed. Thank you for this poem, read after meditation, not quite returned.
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Not quite returned… what an elegant phrase…
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This poem is beautifully paced, so much packed into this slow dive. Cheers, old friend.
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I met Kurt a few times at the AWP conference and we talked about possibly doing a publication project together, but I’m sad to say, the projects never materialized. I admired him for his literary activism and for his beautiful poems… This poem is one of my favorites…
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This poem is now one of my favorite Kurt Brown poems too. I had the pleasure of seeing/hearing him read once at an AWP conference. I’ve had the pleasure of seeing/hearing Laure-Anne read in person as well, at a Detroit Lit Walk event several years ago. Two master poets and two lovely people!
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Thank you, Christine!
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This poem is now one of my favorite Kurt Brown poems too. I had the pleasure of seeing/hearing him read once at an AWP conference. I’ve had the pleasure of seeing/hearing Laure-Anne read in person as well, at a Detroit Lit Walk event several years ago. Two master poets and two lovely people!
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Oops… I didn’t mean to post this twice.
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no problem, Christine. It happens all the time.
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Thank you for keeping his work alive.
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Wow! A masterpiece of a poem! Perfect metaphor for life, this dive and how carefully he considers each element to take us through. I’m grateful to come to know this man poem by poem!
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I agree, Sean. A wonderful description which is also a metaphor…
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