Swimmer

July 15, 1981

The waters are slipping away from you or you are slipping into the waters. You stayed on shore as long as you could, or, changing the mermaid's story, having sung enough and the surf no longer frightening, decided: now time to dive. You already knew your own voice. You were never afraid of the deeps. You will re-enter as specks, like scales of the tiniest minnow or mermaid, or diatoms caught in sun rays, diffusing in blue. This is the way to swim. I also will learn the currents. Teach me the path to the beach.