Boats rock in their stalls
on the tepid lake. Frogs
and cicadas lead the nighttime
orchestra under the half-orb moon.
Tossing discarded clothing in
small heaps, we wade through
the sharp rocks and algae before
swimming to deeper, cooler water.
Nervous giggles fade to hushed,
reverent whispers. The dark-hued sky
around the brilliant stars blends
the line between the water and the night.
We wade back to land, we put
the cloth uniforms of our lives back
on our dripping forms, fresh from a
baptism. Born anew together.