The Swim

The Swim

Small children snorkel at Mitchie’s jetty 
by the sandy grin of beach 
squeal in the silver-skinned lake,
as stingrays glide and twist, morphing 
from flesh fan to slow, finned projectile.


Embracing this inter-tidal world, I float,
as mangroves coil around us, 
roots birth sea-litters and form air straws 
like uttering tongues. Buds sprout into leafy 
salt-pumps; seeds fall, float, germinate, take root.


My muscles spasm.  I’m done. 
Crushed by exhaustion I crawl to the shore
gravity                 on         my            shoul-      ders 
              like         a               granite                       bird
     this                      shape                 shifting                 illness …


(Published 2026, Cordite)