For a moment I stand there on the edge,
savoring the heat of the day. The humidity
is a thick, blanketing entity
that holds me in its furry paw.
The deep breath I draw
invades my lungs like a wet, soggy wedge
Two heartbeats, then I launch into the air
In a most fantastic dive, any swan would laugh at
and I slice in with nary a splat
to wet silk flowing on my skin;
sea, where life begins,
and freedom where there's nothing I can't dare








Comments: 7
thanks for sharing with Surreal circus
You've sent it to Mindful Poetry, but I'm not placing the form. Two stanzas, six lines each, a rhyme scheme of a-b-b-c-c-a.
A new form?
Just a thought...
The breath was invited; the heavy wetness was not. I heartily dislike humidity.I must take after my grandmother, who was in the Polar Bear Club - swimming in Long Island Sound in January.