Swim

Swimming at sunset
in pink-hued waters,
arched shoulders and
tanned expanse of arms
illuminated by the sweeping
spotlight of the sun’s last fickle rays.

What is it about this evening
that leaves more than just
skin glistening with pearl-drops,
joints tingling with effortless
somersaults underwater?

What the evening leaves behind:
laughter, like a child’s,
precious and golden.
The constant stream of chatter,
the ebbing rise and fall of speech
like the patient, undying waves that flow on,
never forgetting to envelop them
each time.

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