Dry land is there, just beyond reach
Every stroke brings me closer to nothing
The dock pulling away with every inch I gain on it.
Cramping muscles long to grasp the grass and dirt
Between fingers that have only known the lake.
Lungs burning as the waters invade,
Depths of black and cold
Midnight at high noon
Burning in skies that never knew the sun
A horizon of rising tide in all directions
Throwing my body against the deep
In a world you cannot enter.
If I called for help, you would not answer.
Image by Pete Linforth from Pixabay