With delicate naivety
we moved like Icarus
against the wind.
Held in the bay,
some force pushed against us
as we pointed ourselves home,
knuckles taut
to keep the sails steady.
A hasty breath before the capsize.
Suspended fear
as the boat went over,
less than a second of air
as I slipped from the wayward hull.
Dark water’s embrace,
greedy, victorious.
The sails darkened underwater.
Every weight
to get the boat upright.
Dripping, we climbed back in,
the lake falling from us
in rivulets and tears.
The ropes were slack
and still the wind was strong.
Upright only seconds -
then the air,
the fall, the embrace.
Our piercing whistle
an unnatural birdsong
calling to the nest,
the plea moved wayward
by waves and wind.
You got us home,
yet somehow
I am still out there:
gasping, falling, submerging,
rising to that same strong wind.
