
Quadrille #13
The Swimmer
He was all blind bones and tendons,
whip-willow arms and flying legs.
Stood sturdy. Stood jar-steady.
It seemed easy, there in water,
light as clouds are in sky.
Fluid and flowing, a light
blue mountain’s breath, and
he fed off the roar of crowds.
© Misky 2016. for Poetic Bloomings “Olympics” and dVerse (poetic form) Quadrille Monday #13
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