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.