Deep Dive

Why did I marry Dick? His arms were strong, 
he'd been a swimmer and his hugs made me feel safe,
brought forth a deepened sigh of home. 

Our Sunday morning lie-ins lasted hours: conversation, laughter,
cuddling, he lying on his back with my head resting on his
shoulder, nose above his armpit where he smelled like sea.

He talked me into learning SCUBA, early lessons 
easy in a swimming pool, then graduating 
to a deeper dive at Ginny Springs in Florida,

and finally Grand Cayman where he was my buddy
to explore an underwater shipwreck, but left me inside
while he swam out to join more seasoned divers, as if

I was happily admiring Damselfish and Slippery Dicks.
Instead, I panicked, reached out, grasping for the doomed
ship's edges, pulled toward the filtered light a hundred feet above

and slowly rose to surface, climbed onto the boat, alone.