By Laci Cain • Monmouth Academy

crawl out of the dark water

let out a howl

just to see if the coyotes answer

they always answer.

stretching fingers towards the heavens

the moon reluctantly pours itself into my expectant palms

I head back over the fallen trees

opening the door and walking across the linoleum

leaving muddy foot prints

animal tracks –

tonight something’s different

my swim isn’t over

I slowly slip into freshly drawn bath

and that’s how they found me

drowning in peace

just below the surface of reality