Apr 1, 2022
Grief 1
The bottom is mud.
It is decaying leaves and
Erosion and
Darkness,
And a foot seeking purchase
Is sucked down into it.
The pull is paralyzing.
Seconds drag.
And almost inevitably,
A foot kicks free,
Goes on propelling a
Body in motion.
But under the water,
Where the sun doesn’t see,
The mud clings between toes
For so long it’s forgotten.
And almost inevitably,
The lake is left,
And the muck of the bottom
gets the chance
To walk around in the world
Until it dries and flakes away.
The surface sparkles in the sun,
Promises weightlessness
To those in desperate need.
The water holds up
What cannot hold itself.
But the bottom is mud.
