One Step After the Next

I step into the water, careful not to slide on moss covered rocks

Round and awkward 

Those sticking out understand my cautious feet

Slow moving, I break the still surface of the lake, causing ripples 
as I move away from the communal edge with

Picnic tables filled with wobbly legged bicyclists, click clacking in their special shoes

On tour, having their rosemary focaccia and free range something...

local ginger ale

The sky that meets the water with dragon flies that hover and hum

on this picture perfect day

I prepare, like always, to swim out to the middle 
But it's been three nights of cold
I  breathe with each stroke through the chill that rises to my chin
as I get farther from shore

My heart 

shouts louder every time I drop below the surface

I cannot breathe evenly
and I realize that my right leg no longer works

and there is no one

swimming or paddling to call out to
I move onto to my back 

and I wonder about my mother's ashes floating freely.

And I know for sure

that I will find my way home,

first on the water

and next on the dusty road.