Meg Yardley
Sometimes I don’t want to rise.
Refractory, resistant, I stomp down
the buoyant air, the rebound
bubbling up beneath. Unwise,
savoring the comforting rush
of current across my heart, I kick
down through kelp, the thick
tangles, heels caught in the deep crush.
I’ve heard that once you let go,
sinking doesn’t hurt. But I always drift up,
not all the way undrowned.
My breath works, a gentle bellows,
ankles slowly winding unstuck:
just far enough up to be found.
Meg Yardley
Meg Yardley lives in the San Francisco Bay area. Her work has recently appeared or is forthcoming in publications including SWWIM, Bodega Magazine, Cagibi, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, and the Women’s Review of Books.