Transition

I stood in transition,

hip deep in now-quiet waters,

feeling the melancholy of change, of stasis,

of muted gray and green

Then to the west

appeared a crisp rip in the clouds,

bright blue streaking out

clean and deep behind the weather

And without knowing just what prompted me,

I slid, snakelike, into the waiting water

to slip my skin and swim.

©Wendy Mulhern

September 13, 2013