Swimming before the May
We heed their banter in winds
though we cover our ears.
Ready to shark our flesh then
flense to a clench of bare bones.
Swirled in the rip
they whip up waves.
We enter aware
who lords all of this water and air.
There are whirligig gods in here.
Take care. Take care.
Beth McDonough often writes on a maternal experience of disability, finding poems whilst foraging and swimming outdoors. Currently Writer in Residence at Dundee Contemporary Arts, her poems are published in Gutter, The Interpreter’s House, Antiphon and other beautiful places.