Art of Drowning
From the gunwales of a dinged up jon boat adrift
on a spring fed lake on a late spring day, from your
white washed perch above white sand beach, blue
sky Brailled with box kites, Coppertone on the breeze
funnel cake for a quarter, Ray Bans A-framing zinc oxide
undertow, like mermaids, mere old wives’ tales
jackknifed in an Adirondack
poolside
at the Palmetto Motor Court
a glimpse from the kitchen window
legs sprouting
from a dry wall bucket
churning the buttery evening air
time
after time after time
you watched while I slipped beneath the waves schooled
in the art of drowning; welcoming waters caress your cheek
quick final breath, a wordless farewell then under.
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