Moving Between Two Waters: Clear Lake in California and the Mississippi River in the Midwest

What carries me over the water, this vast water between two vast waters? Clear Lake like an inland sea, contained and container. The Mississippi a winding snake of river connecting northern and southern territories before spilling into the Gulf of Mexico and on to the ocean?

What carries me? A swan, polka-dotted or striped, perhaps, its dual-chambered heart beating in rhythm with mine? Polka dot black and white—striped black and white because I do not know the nature of the vessel that carries me over the water, but pray that we glide smoothly and I can pet the swan on the way.

Mr. Death glows fluorescent in the dark, skeletal, the grin wiped off his face. “Come,” he beckons. “Come. It’s no longer your concern what carries you over the vast water. I’m your transportation coordinator. Pet the swan and keep a grip of that star pen of yours.”

The milkweed pods face out from each other, twisted, crackling, fragile like paper inside. Old age is cracking open from inside me and I pet the soft fibers straight, knowing no socks fro cold winter nights can be knit from its fiber.

A new dance awaits me. A new whirling, waltzing ball of a dance with full skirts flowing and flouncing around the floor.