Wednesday, June 30, 2010

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.

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