Swimming notes

Old weathered wood, and stone sluice from 100 years ago,

walls cracks wild greens

no wind.

Wide water flanked by woonboots.

sun low and bright,

autumn gold glow.

Further, brick houses and copper beeches

Turning around: blue sky, wide white pivot bridge, munt gebouw, modern offices —

all mirrored in liquid I move with my limbs


People on decks absorbing light

bicycles speeding across the bridge

no one in the water but me,

a speck.


I breaststroke, see my hands swoop under the surface,

a small wake forming behind me

I am in the center, surrounded by houses, people, the five elements, yet

safely in the middle. The thick boundary of water

cushions me from the nervous land.