She wakes in the dark
to what feels like water rising
to her toes, her feet, ankles,

calves, thighs. Her child calls out
for her mother. She tries to shout
she’s coming, but the water

has reached her mouth,
so she swims from bed to
her daughter’s room, lifts her

to the river’s crest, and begins
the cross-chest carry
life-saving stroke she learned

as a teen at church camp
back when it was fun
to practice with her girlfriends

what she always knew was
a matter of life or death.