We swam out to a log,
your life jacket riding up by your ears,
your legs kicking kicking kicking,
your smile blue and thrilled.
I could tell by how you kept squealing,
that noise a child’s heart makes
when it’s mad with joy
that you couldn’t read my thoughts
though I wonder what my face looked like
in that string of moments,
too slow for panic,
perhaps I looked confused
or peaceful.
There we were,
not far from shore
but deep enough,
a friend beside us
cheering us on,
your first big swim
and my legs were kicking too
kicking kicking kicking
but without my arms
I didn’t know
I was so heavy.
I held you up
barely,
my heart slamming
my chin craned for sky
and had that friend not been there
had her legs not been strong enough
to take you
I know what every mother knows
and this is the peaceful part
I would swallow the sea
before letting
you go.