That August,
I focused on the wind,its finer points,
to solve for angles wave-to-land
on certain east-facing beaches,
bearing gusts
from the north. Currents channeledthrough scattered isles
and spits of land.
The Aegean picked itself upand made a quarter turn.
Today, two degrees down
the earth’s flank, hints of the sameslant, same sun, but water softer
in my hands; open and treading
the bluegreen.
A warm bath laced with milk,silk left to soak.
When the wind pushed us,
from its depths,
to this breadth of globe.
those years ago, across
the water’s surface, sealed usfrom its depths,
we left content
to return changedto this breadth of globe.
Wading out today, alone,
I did not expect to break
the moment my heart hit the sea.I did not expect to add my allotment of salt.
