May 2020

By Michael Zahn

For those swept away from us
by the infinite undertow,
we swim.
For the mourning,
we swim.
For ourselves,
we swim.
* * *
We undulate, remembering
those who lie motionless in boxes and urns.
We dive, remembering
those who won’t ever return to the surface.
We rotary-breathe, remembering
those whose chests no longer rise and fall.
We kick, remembering
those whose pace clocks are frozen forever.
We stroke, remembering
those no longer confined by lane lines.
We count our laps,
remembering those who are on the longest lap of all.