Eyes on the horizon –
black hills caught before breaking –
he achieves the sensation of floating
while still holding on
Heat rises over Montauroux
and the mass bells call:
he hovers between day and night,
feet on the rough base of the pool,
hands clinging to the edge,
neither praying
nor neglecting to pray
It is a period of transition,
but he cannot pass:
he remains in the pool
while ants march across the sky
almost within reach