In rough seas. The waves crash. Those you anticipate. Those you don’t. Held under. Rolled round. Released. Above water for a moment. You see the shore. You can’t see the shore. You remember you’re a strong swimmer. Your arms are tired. You aren’t dressed for it. You can’t catch your breath. But you find a way. You write. You cry. You go to the store. You show up where you’re supposed to most of the time.