piercing water with a breath
poised beneath three hundred silver bubbles
wavering
and separating into thousands of aerated marbles
upwards
sailing past the cold surface
to feed the greening leaves
Pandora’s diving,
the aqualung her box,
unavoidably opened
to let the world’s uneasiness pass cooly
into her swelling lungs–
she feels a certain lightness
at one hundred feet
no doubt her smiles wrapping
silver
cellophane around her booted toes.
decompressing on the rise,
lifting her head in a rush of
humming blue bubbles–
and
as if from the changing fish’s belly
she emerges,
her frothy wings spread on the rocky shore
rising from
voiceless
thermoclines.
