Looking out into the lake, he is
all shoulder blades and despair,
he wants to do it, he needs to do it
but he just can't make it out there

the water is cold, the rocks are sharp,
the lake weeds pull and wander;
it's not a long swim, not for him, yet
he can only let opportunity squander

Then, she appears, quickly closing in,
a hero swooping up sad, lanky limbs,
draping him over strong shoulders,
to brave the elements til off he swims

She watches him race away, as he will
over and again for years to come,
until he is grown and her strength
remains in him - the grace he came from