Swim

The river creaks like old floorboards,
but I don’t walk on water,

I stumble down the waves
to where you are asleep,

My shoelaces and your forgiveness
untie me.

Dredged from silt, I play the bones,
my body’s voice now soft and muddy.

You listen, my wind-chime nerves
flicker where we watch the trawlers,

those steel-toed ship of dreams.
You touch my driftwood skin,

Your eyes push back the tide.
I will sink or swim.

For Shay’s Word Garden

9 thoughts on “Swim

  1. Just a fine poem, qbit. The atmosphere is very dreamlike, yet it is full of softly spoken truths. I especially like the opening couplet, and the wind-chime nerves, not to mention the strong and resonant close. Driftwood skin; that’s extremely evocative, and gives that floaty feeling of being suspended on the rippling surface of a different reality that pervades this piece. Excellent writing.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a reply to hedgewitch Cancel reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.