Marco Polo

One...two...three...

Bubbles stream from my nose

As I sink

Four...five...six...

My legs cross under me

And I sit

Seven...Eight...Nine...

Recently, I’ve learned I can open my eyes

And I see

Ten...Eleven...Twelve...

I release a slow breath, watching it float away

As I sigh

.....Fifteen….

Voices are poor swimmers-- sunbeams, less so

I bathe in light and silence

...Twenty....

I am weightless

….Thirty….

I am ethereal

….Forty….

My stupor is interrupted

By my lungs

...Forty-one…

I have no bubbles left

...Forty-two…

My legs unfold

...Forty-three…

My feet push off

Obeying my lungs, more than my mind

...Forty-four…

I close my eyes

...Forty-five...

And I surface.