When we swam today
there was darkness growing
and thunder in the distance
Shivering we descended
the steps to the shore
We’ll be out of the wind
once we’re in the water
Da said with a smile
As always he was first
He waded in then turned
and let himself without hesitation
sink backward into the bay
How is it is it cold I called
hip-deep now bracing myself
before I too pushed
through the transition a thrill
into ease
Not far I said still thinking
of storm Not today the colors
of the surface were forest-
green with gray-blue flashes
and when I turned my gaze
away from shore the bay stretched out
all silver with bits of light We were
enjoying ourselves swimming and speaking
of swimming You have to relax to
swim Da said You have to let
the water take you and we
rolled about in the energy
of the waves staying in the cove
coming up once against rocks hidden
under the tide and
surprising us how we’d drifted
inward
Then a few raindrops came
then more Hurry hurry it’s time
to get out I said— but why
we were already wet and the thunder
had dissolved
in the distance and the raindrops were
bouncing up from the surface
splashing and shining
Another Swim

Hilary Sallick is the author of Love is a Shore (Lily Poetry Review Books, 2023), long-listed for the 2024 Massachusetts Book Award; and Asking the Form (Cervena Barva Press, 2020). Her poems appear in Action, Spectacle; Halfway Down the Stairs; Permafrost; Potomac Review; Notre Dame Review; and elsewhere. She served as vice-president of the New England Poetry Club from 2016 through 2024. A teacher with a longtime focus on adult literacy, she lives in Somerville, MA. (www.hilarysallick.com)