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The Swimmer
I saw her swim out to where
distance and wave height
made her disappear from sight.
The water still carried
the last of summer's warmth.
She was where I would like
to be, loosened from what binds
this body to gravity,
to be free of weight
and feel nothing beneath
my feet but a plunging depth.
I would be tempted
to let myself sink slowly
into that mystery,
taking in wave
and water, to float
as a child would
within a womb, held on the end
of an umbilical cord
linking the now
to eternity.
Copyright ©
Paul Willason
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