Ann Weil

Once More in the Depths

I miss you, blue-haired boy, vanished again
like the ripple of a skipped stone. I have
never understood your leaving— a thing
that must be born. How long must I remain
underwater this time? Grief bubbles up
as I remember how to breathe with gills.
I swim as best I can to make the days
seem shorter, relearn deep sleep to survive
the ache of night. What is it about love
that won’t let me quit, that won’t let me go?

I know how fishing works, this game of lines
and casts, the baited hook that catches light,
catches me as I bite again, no match
for your allure, the pull of your reeling.

Ann Weil writes at her home on the corner of Stratford and Avon in Ann Arbor, Michigan, and on a deck boat at Snipe’s Point Sandbar off Key West, Florida. She earned her doctorate at the University of Michigan and is a former special education teacher and professor. Her work has been nominated for Best of the Net and appears in such venues as DMQ Review, New World Writing Quarterly, Crab Creek Review, 3Elements Review, and Whale Road Review. Her chapbook, Lifecycle of a Beautiful Woman, debuted in April 2023 from Yellow Arrow Publishing.