Into the Mud
By Joyce Sidman
Sun
slant low,
chill seeps into black
water. No more days of bugs
and basking. Last breath, last sight
of light and down I go, into the mud. Every
year, here, I sink and settle, shuttered like a
shed. Inside, my eyes close, my heart slows
to its winter rhythm. Goodbye, good-
bye! Remember the warmth.
Remember the quickness.
Remember me.
Remember.
Joyce Sidman, "Into the Mud" from Song of the Water Boatman & Other Pond Poems. Copyright © 2005 by Joyce Sidman. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.
Source:
Song of the Water Boatman & Other Pond Poems
(Houghton Mifflin, 2005)
