I lost it, I know I did, I felt it slip
into the crevice, between this and that.
I was beguiled by sun and warm rocks
and it wavered and fell.
When I looked down
I saw the centre of me
in the waves’ soft collide.
I sat there in the sun and felt the world fragment
until I could say nothing.
Later, in the pool,
sweet-watered and square,
green mottle gliding by, arms arcing the sky,
I see something dense and small.
I call to it and it comes
whispering in through my fingertips.
My hands plume, my eyes clear,
I lift them, and look at the gathering world.
Copyright Mran-Maree Laing 2011