Into my empty head there come
a cotton beach, a dock wherefrom

I set out, oily and nude
through mist, in chilly solitude.

There was no line, no roof or floor
to tell the water from the air.

Night fog thick as terry cloth
closed me in its fuzzy growth.

I hung the bathrobe on two pegs
I took the lake between my legs.

Invaded and invader, I 
went overhand on that flat sky.

Fish twitched beneath me, quick and tame.
in their green zone they sang my name

And in rhythm of the swim
I hummed a two-four time slow hymn.

I hummed “Abide With Me.” The beat
rose in the fine thrash of my feet,

rose in the bubbles I put out
slantwise, trailing from my mouth.

My bones drank water; water fell
through all my doors. I was the well

that fed the lake that met my sea
in which I sang “Abide With Me.”