Drowning

And more poetry.

Drowning

I

We are born from oceans
from uterine seas
with webbed toes and gills we swim before birth
drowning
drowning might make sense as a way to go
but my young living arms are not ready to die
my body tried to find the fetal instinct
that dried up when I learned to walk

II

and I floated in the air
learned the queer pitch of gravity as one moves through it
as though one will rise forever

and then
water

III

I hung
in the middle
of the pool
everything in stasus
for millennial minutes I smell-taste chlorine
confused limbs tangle the water
my legs grasp and my arms kick out
but the wet is still
the bubbles are calm