Face Down in Warm Water

Face down in warm water

I’m a log,

ripples tickling and sun screaming;

but I’m a whale,

an old gray whale,

inert and down facing,

humming mighty melodies;

but I’m a fly

stuck in water’s tension

watching a watery spiderweb

of polygons growing, then shrinking

then growing again;

but I’m a prism

taking in light now

spewing it out then

in rainbow forms,

on a pebbly blue pool bottom;

but I’m an otter,

with offspring on my back,

turning, tugging, tipping;

but I’m a daddy

face up in warm water,

laughing in unison

with the boy

who would be my hunter.