The water stood, clapped black rocks,
bowed, and retreated.
I fought to keep my head above
as the horizon bounced endlessly.
Three swimmers leapt
from volcanic cliffs into cold chop.
Their brown bodies strong
in white, neon, and aquamarine.
One watched me, hoping
he would not need to save me.
I foamed and spat salt. The roughness
tossed me lightly and caught me hard.
I swam until current raked me to shore
and I stood tenderfoot on red sand.
A new capacity opened in me,
a space and ache I had forgotten.
The stones settled, a woman sunned,
the wind sung and I evaporated.