Transition

I stood in transition,
hip deep in now-quiet waters,
feeling the melancholy of change, of stasis,
of muted gray and green

Then to the west
appeared a crisp rip in the clouds,
bright blue streaking out
clean and deep behind the weather

And without knowing just what prompted me,
I slid, snakelike, into the waiting water
to slip my skin and swim.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 13, 2013


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