After 25 years in Belgium, Ann Milton is preparing for the adventure of returning to the UK, an adventure which will furnish her with more poems as she draws on the daily life of herself and her family.
Her descent through the water slows,
the threatening storm
no longer pulls her down, even creates
her buoyancy. Freed from
helplessness in a downward torrent
she begins to stretch out weary legs –
too light a motion to be called swimming, yet
the first sign of hope since the day she heard
her daughter had became her son.
The water grows warmer as her body reaches
for the light shimmering through the waves
still far above. The weight drains away
and empowers her to rise. She knows
life will never be the same again, lungs
made raw by long submersion, fingers frozen
in the unexplored depths: yet she laughs
because the dark fear of this time
has become the strength she needs.
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