Nancy Mattson
Swimming in Croydon
In the night heat of my city flat
I hunch at my desk, a dry toad
who began the day in water
floating under clouds and cedars
a distant cousin close beside me,
lazy mermaids in her father’s pool.
We were both nude, the scarred back
that she never exposes to others
but sometimes mentions with pain
was healed and suspended
by water that kept her secret.
Her breasts and belly,
and the black happy triangle
where her legs part and begin,
bobbed and winked at the branches.
We swam as we were born,
in amniotic floating we returned
to the soft enduring arms
of Our Lady of the Oceans.
Our watery amnesia swept away
the men who no longer embrace us.
But earth and ink are cruel, the city night ....
I blink against the chlorine in my eyes.
Page(s) 41
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