It's daylight, bright,
it's warm, the sun is yellow and gentle.
There is a breeze, but it's soft,
easy.
It's a Caribbean breeze,
the sea is cool and refreshing,
and I am treading water.

It's in my ears.
It laps softly into my mouth,
I spit it out,
draw breath and inhale the spray.
My arms and legs flap
beneath the surface, creating
little concentric rings,
little bobbing circles that span outward.
I am the swan, seemingly graceful,
kicking furiously to stay afloat.
Every so often I lose my grip
on the nothingness, and sink.
Momentarily an anchor. Motionless.

Here, I am lost, no one can see me,
planes fly overhead
and I am just a speck on the sea.

Why do I keep treading. I could just
let myself drown in it,
but once I saw an island
swathed in sand and palm trees,
coconuts and banana plants
and I believe it's still out there
so I just keep swimming.