marion willmott
Last week, at two o’clock,
a memorial service,
the week before, three o’clock.
a memorial service,
the week before, three o’clock.
Today I’ve gone to the lake,
wind-rippled water shimmering
into the hazy hues
of the Adirondack Mountains.
wind-rippled water shimmering
into the hazy hues
of the Adirondack Mountains.
I swim away from shore
as far as I dare, a dark dot
in blue’s immensity
and dive towards the bottom,
below light filtering down,
seaweed hair streaming,
breast stroke and frog kick
into the womb
as far as I dare, a dark dot
in blue’s immensity
and dive towards the bottom,
below light filtering down,
seaweed hair streaming,
breast stroke and frog kick
into the womb
of a silent underworld,
until I have to breathe again,
bursting back into the dazzle of day,
until I have to breathe again,
bursting back into the dazzle of day,
gasping, skin tingling, reborn,
as if I’d been on a long journey
and met a wizened old fish-woman
who laughed and took my hand.
and met a wizened old fish-woman
who laughed and took my hand.
Author Bio
I am a visual artist and writer, enjoying both the solitude of the Vermont mountains and a vital
artistic community. I enjoy the balance and interaction of both forms of expression. I strive to
stay present to the mystery we are a part of and deepen the encounter.
Salamander, the Denver Quarterly, The Worchester Review, The Louisville Review, Birmingham
Arts Journal, Calyx and The Comstock Review, among other journals and anthologies. A poem
was nominated for a Pushcart Prize by the Worchester Review.
Turnings, a poetry chapbook, was published by Pudding House Publications in December 2007
Still Life, Requiem and an Egg, a poetry chapbook, was published by Prolific Press in 2018.
