The least water lily
September heat all day and out of the car
a cool breeze brushes us from the lake
you start to look for a swimming place
just a few people about
a small two-person yacht far off-shore
a notice says this is the home
of the least water-lily post ice-age flower
the only mere in England where it still lives
you begin your swim edging
from a spot in the woods into residual ice-melt
the two of you my daughters in law
striking out laughing because of the cold
maybe I should try searching the margins
for this yellow signal of a survival
still happening whether I find it or not
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