- Bottomless Water
The boat has almost tipped over, its keelreaching for air. We're sunburned but whitewith fear, leaning as far over the upper railas we can without falling, hoping our weight
can save us. What if it can't?We make every effortto re-centerour greatest fear: being exposed to something
we have no control over.We work to persuade ourselveswe can prevent it by doing the right thing--assuming we are on solid ground
but not certain.We do all this,but still fear thatapprehension is all that lies on the other side.
We do not know how the story will end.At the moment it has lost its shapeand taken ours.The water that was
to hold us up did not.As we move through itwe realize we are more like the waterthan in it. [End Page 149]
John Schneider was born and raised in Wisconsin and has lived and worked in Berkeley, California, for most of his adult life where he has studied poetry with Robert Hass. Recent poems have appeared in Glassworks Magazine; fort da; Wilderness House Literary Review; Anak Sastra; Edge Literary Journal; West Trade Review; The Literary Nest; The Mayo Review; 2 Bridges Review; The Bookends Review; California Quarterly; Sliver of Stone Magazine; Worcester Review; Potomac Review; Slipstream Poetry Magazine; and Tampa Review.