The Dry Suit

Purple spikes shred my skin,
Sending me into shock as sea
Rushes in to fill me, skin to skin.
Shaking slightly, I ascend,
Seeking sunlit sky–
Slow, sixteen feet to go,
But safety stops my ascent.
Three minutes I stay at sixteen feet
To save me from the chance of D.C.S.
A swift descent in a decomp. chamber
Isn’t in my schedule for these
Sweet seven days of salvation–
Skiing on the sea,
Slipping through the ocean’s size.
Why didn’t I get a semi-dry suit?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *