August 27, 2013

last swim of the summer

Don't let the day fool you.
The water is still warm, still glittered with swerving fish,
still buoyant as ever. Yes, the lake houses stand stoic and empty,
the beach a graveyard of overturned, leaf-dusted kayaks.
But sometimes, you have to ignore the signs and enter anyway,
your body interrupting the pristine, glassy surface. Maybe no one will witness
this last swim of the summer. Or perhaps you will recognize the welcome audience
celebrating even your minor acts of rebellion: the rumple of clouds, the swaying trees,
the water itself, moving at its own pace,
toward wherever it is called to travel.