Solitary Dip

The half moon shining there above me

does not care, but if it did,
it could not see me as I doused the light
and laid aside the towel wrap
and stepped into the swirling heat
not so unlike my entry into this reality
so many years ago,
Just bone and muscle
moving silently beneath the water
clothed with softness and with skin
that sags a little here and there
but in the darkness feels as beautiful
as when I was a girl.
No eyes can see me here,
no husband's, child's,
no neighbor's nor a stranger's,
only angels' up above
who never blush
but sometimes laugh at
all our silly notions of
what constitutes a sin, a shame,
embarrassment at what the very
hand of God has sculpted.
Now discreetly settled
I experiment with all the buttons
to increase the bubbles' dance
until a sudden, unplanned sun illuminates me
as I celebrate the joy and simple silence
of clear water and the night time
and a woman all alone.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2016