Swimming Lesson

Consider my father, who,
as a boy, learned to swim
in the hands of his father.

The lesson was this:
a johnboat rowed to the middle,
a throwing overboard,
the imperative Swim.

Consider the lamentation of the son cast out:
Father, why hast thou forsaken me?
or the ordeal of the accused, the weight
of his father's gaze a millstone around his neck.

Consider my father, who,
as a boy, discovered he could swim
immersed in the grip of fears.

A fear of drowning, yes,
but more: a fear of reaching
for the hand in the boat.