I’m afraid of water, or, rather,
Overwhelmed. I’m one of those
That finger-wrinkle quickly,
When in its grip. I don’t like
Long showers or dish immersed towers
Of eating-ate, don’t like to swim, can’t
See where I’m going, without my glasses, anyway;
Heads bobbing in water are just blobs.

I’m afraid of water, in particular,
In weather, who can’t be, anymore?
We’re melting, and the wrinkles are
Filling up quickly, too quickly. I’m
Afraid people aren’t afraid enough of water
To understand. There is nothing more fluid,
Aka Chaotic, as water, except Time. Not even
Space or Quantums or lineal bibles
Of linear movement, equated to the birth of a world.
Water, in the Nile, in the Yangtze, in the
Euphrates show that lesson, muddled up clearly!

I love water, or, rather,
Imagine me as its guardian, when
Drops of rain from everywhere sing
Their abrupt ending into chaos, and death,
Supporting an essence of being
that ceases with rain’s current rainbow.
I love the set-sprinkler’s gorgeous
Arc of freedom-falling water, tempered
By clogged summer-use, justified.
Love how water twines away from
Gravity’s center, creating
Pools of life in backyard deserts.

I, once, swam in hot water, before
I was born. I’d forgotten water has not only fluidity,
But, temperature. World-bound driven.
‘Atmosphere, oh, atmosphere, to you I bow!
You loose liquid upon dying heads, and
Renew. Continually! Until, maybe
You stop being an Atmosphere, maybe
You’re burnt out, wheezing and almost
Extinguished’. Once or twice, I experience
My youth, forty years ago, and how
Water wasn’t such an enemy, then.

How then is Now?

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 8/27/07