Twenty lengths

Today I am uneasy in the water,
the strokes do not come smoothly.

My daily metamorphosis
from pachyderm to crocodile to

water-snake has failed. The water
eddies, stalls on unseen lumps.

I don't know why. I lumber, twist
onto my back and smell the pine trees.

I gaze at the greys of clouds and wonder
why I cannot slither sinuously like yesterday.

Perhaps a breeze has made the water
harder. Sent the ripples crossways.

And then a wall of water thumps my head.
I turn and see a man churn furious

lengths as if his life's ambition
is fracturing the upturned sky, thrashing

waves to all the edges of the world.
I wonder how his fury feels

and what it's like to make the biggest splash.
Then he leaves and I slide quietly into fish.

Challenge word: Water