Swimming East

He dives unseen,
knifing neatly
into the murky depths
of the vast, silent lake.

Earlier the water was
a rich aquamarine,
now it is
black
as
ink,
reflecting the starless sky.

As the shore lights fade behind,
and the icy chill
sinks bone deep,
the swimmer slices silently
through the waves.

The steady rhythm
of his strokes provide
immeasurable solace.

In this solitary pursuit,
there is
pure serenity
and
absolute forgetfulness.

Alone,
he is swimming east.