NIGHTSWIMMING… DESERVES A QUIET NIGHT.
The older I get, the more difficult I find it to let go of certain nights. Maybe the day was an exceptionally good one, where everything clicked at work, you felt at the top of your game, and there were more accolades and happy co-workers than complaints and aggravations. Maybe the night was one of those vacation nights where, after a day spent fully and luxuriously at the beach, you ate your fill of fresh seafood and were sauntering back to the hotel when your husband asked if you wanted to stop for an ice cream cone. Maybe the sky was simply the truest blue, the sun shone in all its splendor, and the gardens tipped from the height of June into the glory of July. Maybe it was none of these things, but an old friend came to visit and you remembered what it was like to be young, in the summer between high school and college, when all was hope and fear and love and danger, and the moon was low and September whispered it was on the way. Maybe it was just the end of summer.
THE PHOTOGRAPH ON THE DASHBOARD, TAKEN YEARS AGO
TURNED AROUND BACKWARDS SO THE WINDSHIELD SHOWS
EVERY STREETLIGHT REVEALS THE PICTURE IN REVERSE
STILL, IT’S SO MUCH CLEARER
I FORGOT MY SHIRT AT THE WATER’S EDGE
THE MOON IS LOW TONIGHT
At the end of one of these days, when all our friends have left and the moon remains, the music has faded to memory and the scent of the angel’s trumpet tree fills our backyard. I slip into the darkened water of the pool and sink gratefully to the bottom. The warm tug of the day’s heat, caught in liquid form, embraces my skin, and part of me is reluctant to surface.
I struggle with the passing of time, doing what I can to slow it and still it in its tracks, all to no avail. It will have its way with us; we are powerless against it. Still, beneath the water things seem to move a little slower. I pause in the languid sweetness, gently kicking off the cares of the day, paddling away from the worries of tomorrow.
We do not want the summer to leave just yet.
NIGHTSWIMMING DESERVES A QUIET NIGHT
I’M NOT SURE ALL THESE PEOPLE UNDERSTAND
IT’S NOT LIKE YEARS AGO
THE FEAR OF GETTING CAUGHT
OF RECKLESSNESS AND WATER
THEY CANNOT SEE ME NAKED
THESE THINGS, THEY GO AWAY
REPLACED BY EVERYDAY
Water lapping at my neck and ears… the distant hum of an air conditioner kicking on… the faint bark of a dog’s warning… and I swim down again, lost in the muffled, giddy gurgles. Upon surfacing, I see the houselights bounce and reflect off the little waves I’ve made. I tilt my head back and see the sky and its infinite sadness. Clouds encroaching and covering the moon, a disappearing sea of stars, an oncoming storm.
Wind on the rise like invisible ocean, all power and might and terrifying beauty. A maelstrom of darkness choking out the heat of this summer day. Who knows when it will be this hot again… maybe not until next summer. There is melancholy dwelling there. A bit of relief too.
NIGHTSWIMMING, REMEMBERING THAT NIGHT
SEPTEMBER’S COMING SOON
I’M PINING FOR THE MOON
AND WHAT IF THERE WERE TWO
SIDE BY SIDE IN ORBIT
AROUND THE FAIREST SUN?
THAT BRIGHT, TIGHT FOREVER DRUM
COULD NOT DESCRIBE NIGHTSWIMMING
The night before I went away to college, my girlfriend dropped me off at the top of the street where I grew up. It was only a single block to walk, but I wanted to make the memory, and I wanted to make it last. We kissed each other goodbye, and without realizing it kissed our carefree childhoods goodbye too. We held on as long as we could, maybe a little longer than we should have, but it was harder to leave back then, back when it was new, back when we didn’t know we might still return, even if it was emptier and colder and different, even if we no longer belonged. Maybe we never did.
YOU, I THOUGHT I KNEW YOU
YOU I CANNOT JUDGE
YOU, I THOUGHT YOU KNEW ME
THIS ONE LAUGHING QUIETLY UNDERNEATH MY BREATH
NIGHTSWIMMING
And so, on this late August night, baptized anew by the water of life and seared by the pain of the passage of time, I float on the deep darkness of what has gone. All that we have already lost, all that we have yet to loose. There is so much tenderness in this world, and we live in such a tenuous time…
I don’t want it to end.
THE PHOTOGRAPH REFLECTS, EVERY STREETLIGHT A REMINDER
NIGHTSWIMMING DESERVES A QUIET NIGHT, DESERVES A QUIET NIGHT.
