Think of a Summer’s Night

I peeled my clothes off sweaty skin,

the extra tug it took like shucking corn,

and the water opened to receive me, its dark

shimmer in starlight, and I could dive under,

the cool water sweeping my naked body,

entering every pore and the darkness

doing the same. Then I stood ankle deep

in the muddy bottom, arms stretched

over the calm surface of blackened water,

weightless, I rolled onto my back,

kicked away from shore and shadows

of trees to see the whole sky above,

the Milky Way—a thick streak.

The stars were far and close at once,

and it seemed my only purpose was to

witness them, and I did, I breathed

them into my lungs and the current’s quiet

swirl braided my hair with seaweed,

my body grew cool, then cold

as I floated for hours, maybe years,

long after my skin puckered

and then the old doubts that plagued me,

that constant tick of rumination, fell away,

my mind moving toward this vast

embrace, the eons of darkness raining down

from the heavens, rising up from the earth

and the bottom of the lake.