Months ago I wrote Night Swimming – about skinny dipping back in New York at a place we weren’t supposed to be.  For the writing class – we have several choices of things to write each module – I chose to write a poem about something that happened to me from the point of view of a third person.  So I re-wrote the Night Swimming story as a poem.  Enjoy.

Black Rock

The station wagon rumbled along the dirt road

trespassing through the dense woods

neither moonlight nor headlights guiding it to the shore

the surface of the lake black ice on that muggy night

silently slipping into the scary void

naked young bodies taunting the unknown lurking below

stifling the noise of complicit fear

listening for approaching authority

and breaking all the rules