I keep a look out for the seventh wave
that rises higher than the rest. The sun
is low and still entangled in the haze
of early morning. That’s the time I come
and sitting on the edges of the pool
I dip my hands in higher than my wrists.
My shoulders melt and then a liquid cool
runs spreading outwards down into my hips.
A new dimension, wet with undried joy
unfolds itself around existing forms
transforming them from individual dry
and thirsty shapes into a shimmering sum.
Intent on seeing all I soon forget.
Thats when the wave runs up and makes me wet.
