19 September, 2008

Diver Down

Sunlight beats down on the water; the reflection
skitters across my face with the ungainly
gait of a geek at his first dance.
The hum of the outboard lulls me; the boat breaking
the waves sends spray splashing over the port bow,
raining down on the radio; drops glistening.
Jimmy Buffet sings about a trip to Paris; one that
I’ll never make; but at least this I don’t regret.
Today I have no questions.
I try to leave my worries behind to make room as I
wriggle into the wetsuit; tight and uncomfortable, like a hug
from Grandma when she’s had too much to drink.
The pressure in the tank is less than the
pressure in my heart; I think; I have no gage.
Which will wind down first?  I wonder.
Not all pressure increases with depth.
Set the flag and don the mask; bite down
on the respirator, so eager to breathe for me
if I just let it; give up control.
Over the edge and down, letting the lead drag me under
Deeper and deeper; my ears hurt as the light fades,
I give the vest a short, shot of air.  All stop.
I hang motionless, my body one big goosebump
as I get used to the cold and the fact that I am
not at the top of the food chain down here.
I let the current take me; I only make
minor corrections as I drift along.  Life has
never seemed so. . . effortless.

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