The Swim
Drying under a sleepwalking sun
after a long swim
up and down
back and forth, steady, lazy strokes
until her body felt sleek and silvered
by the bright water.
Not bad for an old gal she thought
letting the warm air caress her mind.
There are appreciative busboys here
she is admired
as a matriarchal figure, an ancient goddess
a beautiful crone?
She smiles under closed eyelids
a thousand adoring hands
tingling her sacrificial flesh.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2023
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