Photo Story: Night Swimming

Wet footprints, dancing shadows along the edge of the pool. The turbid water glows like fireflies and in its dark center the moon, almost full, overhead.

After the funeral, you cut swim trunks from your Sunday Suit, gave me the tie to wear as a belt.

Iā€™m not thinking about autumn Mondays or who will make me lunches now that we are only two, only how the moon will shatter when you collide with its reflection. Treading water, I wait for you to dive back in.

When you jump, I go under. Together we touch bottom, buoy back up again.

Melinda McCamant is a writer and photographer living in Portland, Oregon. You can find select stories and recipes at

One Response to “Photo Story: Night Swimming”

  1. Kunal says:

    The photo is mesmerising. It brought me here šŸ™‚

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