Late in the lockdown
but before I was arrested
I drove out to Triangle Lake
to go swimming

I hadn’t spoken aloud in several days
Tenuous lines of relationship
withered by pandemic protection
strategies and phobias

A man passing by greeted me
my voice hoarse in responding

I’d rather greet the morning water,
quiet and green
and cool around my calves

From the clarity that murks with depth
little fish came curious
one flat-faced and large as my hand

Slowly relishing, free from my apartment,
I moved through the expanse of lake
knowing those quiet fish were
in the weeds with me

I swam with a wet bandanna over my mouth
Playing with the necessity of masking