Tuesday, July 8, 1997

The lake

As the ripples emanate from my fingertips,
the fragrant stars waver,
as my thoughts.
Mists over the calm water darkness rise.
I lean farther to sift them through my fingers.
My limbs ache for the cool liquid to surround
but I still obey, ease toes in- legs dangling.
Safe from the infinite current.
Sailing away on this firmly anchored dock.
It is only the water moving by naked calves-
I know.
Yet I'm traveling- some direction infinitely now.
Down? Sinking as my shell floats unaware?
Drowning must resemble this thumping urge
of helplessness.
My surroundings no different than the pounding
warm, red liquid in my temples.
My surroundings are clotting suddenly
and I give in...
July 8, 1997