Poem: "Never Turn Your Back"
May. 15th, 2026 10:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysabetwordsmithThis poem came out of the February 2026 ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crowdfunding Creative Jam. It was inspired by a prompt from curiosity. It also fills the "Nonsexual Touch" square in my 2-1-26 card for the Valentines Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with fuzzyred. This poem belong to the college arc of the Shiv thread in the Polychrome Heroics series.
Warning: This poem deals with a minor fall from a tree, superpower overstrain, and worried friends. If these are touchy topics for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward.
"Never Turn Your Back"
[Thursday, October 6, 2016]
Shiv and Arthur headed toward
their Nebraska en Plein Air class.
They wanted to catch all they could
before the weather turned nasty, but
today was a nice fall day, cloudy with
a light breeze and chance of rain later.
This session was scheduled for
a cluster of trees in Elmwood Park,
so they could practice sketching those.
"Looks like a mix of maples and oaks,"
Arthur said. "They still have their leaves."
The leaves showed flares of orange and red,
some already rusting toward the brown of winter.
Then the sun broke through the clouds, and
everything turned to flakes of copper and gold.
"Good thing I brought my creme pastels,"
Shiv said as he patted his backpack.
He was exploring different media to see
which ones he liked for outdoor artwork;
the pastel sticks were bright but portable.
Several other people were already there,
looking at the trees. Shiv recognized
Roisin from his Worldbuilding class,
but he didn't know all the others.
Professor Fiore was there, though,
pointing to a tall crack in one tree.
"See how the bark curls inward?"
she said. "That tells us this is
an old scar from an injury."
Two more girls arrived,
Roxy and her friend Abigail.
"I think that's everyone, so we
can get started," Professor Fiore
said as she checked her vidwatch.
"Welcome to Nebraska en Plein Air.
Today we're working with fall color.
Feel free to do landscapes, but you
can get extra credit for identifiable trees,
so pay attention to the leaves and bark."
Roxy flailed a hand in the air. "Can we
climb the trees?" she asked. "I want
to get a closer look at the leaves."
"Sure, as long as you pick a tree
big enough to hold you, and don't
go too high," said Professor Fiore.
Roxy stuck a foot in the crack
and squirreled up the big tree.
"I'll stay down here, thanks,"
Abigail said, setting up below.
"I think I'll go for something
with high contrast," Roisin said
as she put up a portable easel.
Shiv pulled out a sketchbook
and his creme pastels to do
a set of color thumbnails.
"Leaves of copper,
leaves of gold,
gild the treasures
autumn holds,"
Arthur muttered,
the shook his head.
"No, that's not right."
Shiv snorted. Arthur did
writing as well as art, so he
could go either way in class.
It only took a few minutes
to figure out which colors
best matched the trees.
Then Shiv did sketches
of the trunks and leaves.
He was drawing a knothole
when he heard a sharp crack!
Shiv's head jerked up as he
scuttled away from the sound.
The branch under Roxy was
giving way as she squealed
and scrabbled for a grip.
Shiv flung out a hand and
caught her by the metal bits
in her jeans and sneakers.
Her top half tilted downward
and she screamed again.
Swearing, Shiv put out
his other hand, trying
to cup his superpower
around her bones.
His head was pounding
as he lowered her to
the grass under the tree.
Okay, good. She was safe.
Everything was too bright
and sharp around him.
Shiv rubbed a hand under
his nose, then wiggled
a finger in his ear.
No blood. That's good.
He flopped to the ground.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't
mean to!" Roxy wailed.
"I was being careful."
"That's why Mardy says
never turn your back on nature.
You don't know what it might
get up to," said Professor Fiore.
Oh, right, Shiv had heard
Professor O'Keefe saying that.
It was damn good advice.
"Are you okay?" Arthur said,
patting over him. "I didn't see
anything hit you, but you
really don't look okay."
Shiv was so not okay.
The last thing he needed
was some random person
poking at him, though, which
is what would happen if anyone
called campus health service.
Shiv unclenched his teeth
enough to say, "Pocket.
Phone. Pound. H."
"You want me to get
your phone out of
your pocked and dial
pound-H," Arthur said.
"Yeah," Shiv muttered.
Long fingers fished in
his pocket, and then Shiv
heard the dialing sounds.
"This is Arthur Atwood calling
from Shiv's phone," he said.
"He ah, caught a girl who was
falling from a tree and now he's
flat on his back. I didn't see
any injuries but I'm worried."
A pause, then Arthur said,
"Yeah, there's plenty of room;
we're outside in a park."
Next thing Shiv knew,
Dr. Infanta was leaning
over him, looking worried.
Well, fuck. He had hoped
for Heron, who would tell
the whole family but at least
looked less conspicuous.
"Wow, you really overdid it,"
said Dr. Infanta. "Here, swallow."
Shiv swallowed, and recognized
the mint-soap taste of blue chamomile.
His head stopped feeling like it was
about to break open, and started
to feel more like it was melting.
"It's just overstrain," said Dr. Infanta.
"He's miserable, but he'll be fine.
He needs to go home and rest,
with someone to watch him, and
he won't be at school tomorrow.
I'll check him then and figure out
when he can come back."
"I can stay with him,"
Arthur said immediately.
"Just get us to his apartment
above Blues Moon if you can."
"We can do that," said Lorry.
Shiv hoped that Professor Fiore
wouldn't freak out over meeting
the tiny supervillain healer and
her fireplug of a teleporter.
He drifted a moment, and
then Lorry was tucking him
into bed, clothes on, shoes off.
"Sleep it off," said Dr. Infanta.
"I'll check on you tomorrow."
Arthur shooed them away,
then patted Shiv's ankle. "I'll
just crash on your futon today,"
he said. "I'll leave the door
cracked in case you need me."
Shiv's bedroom was dim,
with only the crack of light
lining the edge of the door.
He gripped his fuzzy blanket
and let himself fall asleep.
* * *
Notes:
Nebraska Omaha Elmwood Park Maple and Oak Trees in Autumn
crowdfunding Creative Jam. It was inspired by a prompt from curiosity. It also fills the "Nonsexual Touch" square in my 2-1-26 card for the Valentines Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with fuzzyred. This poem belong to the college arc of the Shiv thread in the Polychrome Heroics series.Warning: This poem deals with a minor fall from a tree, superpower overstrain, and worried friends. If these are touchy topics for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward.
"Never Turn Your Back"
[Thursday, October 6, 2016]
Shiv and Arthur headed toward
their Nebraska en Plein Air class.
They wanted to catch all they could
before the weather turned nasty, but
today was a nice fall day, cloudy with
a light breeze and chance of rain later.
This session was scheduled for
a cluster of trees in Elmwood Park,
so they could practice sketching those.
"Looks like a mix of maples and oaks,"
Arthur said. "They still have their leaves."
The leaves showed flares of orange and red,
some already rusting toward the brown of winter.
Then the sun broke through the clouds, and
everything turned to flakes of copper and gold.
"Good thing I brought my creme pastels,"
Shiv said as he patted his backpack.
He was exploring different media to see
which ones he liked for outdoor artwork;
the pastel sticks were bright but portable.
Several other people were already there,
looking at the trees. Shiv recognized
Roisin from his Worldbuilding class,
but he didn't know all the others.
Professor Fiore was there, though,
pointing to a tall crack in one tree.
"See how the bark curls inward?"
she said. "That tells us this is
an old scar from an injury."
Two more girls arrived,
Roxy and her friend Abigail.
"I think that's everyone, so we
can get started," Professor Fiore
said as she checked her vidwatch.
"Welcome to Nebraska en Plein Air.
Today we're working with fall color.
Feel free to do landscapes, but you
can get extra credit for identifiable trees,
so pay attention to the leaves and bark."
Roxy flailed a hand in the air. "Can we
climb the trees?" she asked. "I want
to get a closer look at the leaves."
"Sure, as long as you pick a tree
big enough to hold you, and don't
go too high," said Professor Fiore.
Roxy stuck a foot in the crack
and squirreled up the big tree.
"I'll stay down here, thanks,"
Abigail said, setting up below.
"I think I'll go for something
with high contrast," Roisin said
as she put up a portable easel.
Shiv pulled out a sketchbook
and his creme pastels to do
a set of color thumbnails.
"Leaves of copper,
leaves of gold,
gild the treasures
autumn holds,"
Arthur muttered,
the shook his head.
"No, that's not right."
Shiv snorted. Arthur did
writing as well as art, so he
could go either way in class.
It only took a few minutes
to figure out which colors
best matched the trees.
Then Shiv did sketches
of the trunks and leaves.
He was drawing a knothole
when he heard a sharp crack!
Shiv's head jerked up as he
scuttled away from the sound.
The branch under Roxy was
giving way as she squealed
and scrabbled for a grip.
Shiv flung out a hand and
caught her by the metal bits
in her jeans and sneakers.
Her top half tilted downward
and she screamed again.
Swearing, Shiv put out
his other hand, trying
to cup his superpower
around her bones.
His head was pounding
as he lowered her to
the grass under the tree.
Okay, good. She was safe.
Everything was too bright
and sharp around him.
Shiv rubbed a hand under
his nose, then wiggled
a finger in his ear.
No blood. That's good.
He flopped to the ground.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't
mean to!" Roxy wailed.
"I was being careful."
"That's why Mardy says
never turn your back on nature.
You don't know what it might
get up to," said Professor Fiore.
Oh, right, Shiv had heard
Professor O'Keefe saying that.
It was damn good advice.
"Are you okay?" Arthur said,
patting over him. "I didn't see
anything hit you, but you
really don't look okay."
Shiv was so not okay.
The last thing he needed
was some random person
poking at him, though, which
is what would happen if anyone
called campus health service.
Shiv unclenched his teeth
enough to say, "Pocket.
Phone. Pound. H."
"You want me to get
your phone out of
your pocked and dial
pound-H," Arthur said.
"Yeah," Shiv muttered.
Long fingers fished in
his pocket, and then Shiv
heard the dialing sounds.
"This is Arthur Atwood calling
from Shiv's phone," he said.
"He ah, caught a girl who was
falling from a tree and now he's
flat on his back. I didn't see
any injuries but I'm worried."
A pause, then Arthur said,
"Yeah, there's plenty of room;
we're outside in a park."
Next thing Shiv knew,
Dr. Infanta was leaning
over him, looking worried.
Well, fuck. He had hoped
for Heron, who would tell
the whole family but at least
looked less conspicuous.
"Wow, you really overdid it,"
said Dr. Infanta. "Here, swallow."
Shiv swallowed, and recognized
the mint-soap taste of blue chamomile.
His head stopped feeling like it was
about to break open, and started
to feel more like it was melting.
"It's just overstrain," said Dr. Infanta.
"He's miserable, but he'll be fine.
He needs to go home and rest,
with someone to watch him, and
he won't be at school tomorrow.
I'll check him then and figure out
when he can come back."
"I can stay with him,"
Arthur said immediately.
"Just get us to his apartment
above Blues Moon if you can."
"We can do that," said Lorry.
Shiv hoped that Professor Fiore
wouldn't freak out over meeting
the tiny supervillain healer and
her fireplug of a teleporter.
He drifted a moment, and
then Lorry was tucking him
into bed, clothes on, shoes off.
"Sleep it off," said Dr. Infanta.
"I'll check on you tomorrow."
Arthur shooed them away,
then patted Shiv's ankle. "I'll
just crash on your futon today,"
he said. "I'll leave the door
cracked in case you need me."
Shiv's bedroom was dim,
with only the crack of light
lining the edge of the door.
He gripped his fuzzy blanket
and let himself fall asleep.
* * *
Notes:
Nebraska Omaha Elmwood Park Maple and Oak Trees in Autumn
