The Swim


I swim with the flow of the river.
The cold water cools not just my skin, but also my worries.
I can barely hear over the rapids.
I can barely see through the spray as it crashed all around.
I hold my breath, and my lungs burn.
My muscles scream out in protest as I strain to keep moving.
It’s a good feeling, honed over years of dedicated training.
It’s the same feeling I get when I awake, and thank God I’m alive.
For there is no greater freedom.
It is liquid life I swim through, confirmation I am alive.

Tagged with , ,


  1. Kayelynn on April 15, 2020 at 9:35 AM


    Great poem! Your imagery makes me picture what you’re saying crystal-clear in my mind. It’s cool to see that you’ve found an outlet that helps you cope and appreciate the things in life!

  2. Hayley on April 15, 2020 at 3:20 PM


    This poem is really beautiful. I also find comfort in swimming and think water can be healing. For me, holding my breath makes me feel like I have control even when I’ve almost lost it. Perhaps this feeling is similar to what you are expressing in this poem. I like the way you describe life as “liquid”, something you can move through as long as you have your breath and control. Thank you for sharing your perspective.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

The poets featured here are currently incarcerated, and many of them are in federal prisons far from home. Your feedback is a valuable source of motivation and connection to the outside community. Post your comments, feedback, and encouragement in the space below the poem. Messages will be passed on directly to the author. Comments may not appear immediately on the site, as our team processes them to mail to the poets.