Dark below, above
Sky and water flowing unknowing
At their juncture I - lacking buoyancy
If but I were a mayfly
Surface tension would hold me
It tugs on the hairs on my arms so feebly
Too feebly to be discerned - perhaps
A microscopic bubble or two
When I descend will accompany
When I descend I will try
To meet enemy as if a friend
To 'go gently' into the night
And yet - not yet
There are dregs to expend - there is fight
Stroking the water - maintain
Access to air - and hope
And hope - that somewhere out there I share
The surface with one that may
Herald arrival of day
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