For The Third Time

Just going to slip underwater
and listen for a second

to strong muffled echoes
of distant shouting,

sharp snap of stones
smacked together

by children in shallow water
near shore, delighted

to discover how crisp
such things

may sound when taken out of
this world into another. 

I wonder how crisp I sound
as I take myself 

from that world to this one.
I like it here.  I think I’ll stay,

even though I’m still holding
so much, so many words

tightly inside me, wrapped in
quickening, instinctual panic

at how natural it feels
to not be breathing, to be down here

instead of above water shouting
and struggling and splashing about

as I was just a few minutes ago.
When sooner or later

I do surrender, exhale,
and sink away from all this

I’ll say and be at last
what I’ve wanted to say and be,

and will understand 
how I was supposed to sound

all along: strong and echoing,
each word informed finally

by my trust that even if there
is no salvation to be had by doing so,

I will have let it all go
as I should have done long before.

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About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

One response to “For The Third Time

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