Two Poems About Swimming

Dusk Swim

So studied the swimmer

So form on lake

So paddle sand so damp down

So slap spatter glass

So sun dreams glide face

So miracle slide he.

Marco Polo (for Annie L.)

Learning to swim at 54

requires a teacher

with a connection

to the float of things.

Hand-in (sure as Jesus)

hand

(Father, take this cup)

we step from the deck,

feet walking in wet space,

child and midwife to this reverse birth,

calveskneesthighsbuttbellychestshouldersneckchincheeksearseyesbrowhair

one roaring terror of a silver second

then you, sweet you, with agape of

a glad, transformed Ahab

cheer every breach and fluke and flail

of this old white whale.