When I was a little boy,
The lake scared me; I’d watch
The Stevens slosh and splash out
Under the Georgia sun,
But would never flap with them.
The water was too deep for my feet,
Too big for my chubby belly.
Until, floating in shallow depths over time,
A woman with broad, brunette hair
Said: “The Deep’s fun! Just float with me!”
I grasped this one who seemed to have such control,
Such grace in the lake,
and we drifted away.
I learned that,
Though the water is large enough, infinite it seems,
One must swim anyway.
A fish is no fish unless it swims.
But the lake was cruel once.
Its dirty waves swallowed my aunt,
And I suddenly feared the thing I feared
Looking at my family in Georgia.
A moment of suspenseful silence.
Then, the water rose in a fury,
A swirling cyclone of James,
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