A Drowning

Nobody screamed

not even when blackness came
and small waves bounced upward,
obscuring the shoreline from sight:
biting at the sky

not even when their necks numbed
and boreal steel filled their pockets, 
with weight like loss: the rush of 
fear in a vacuum

Still, nobody screamed

instead, their throats made small alarms,
guttural from behind clamped jaws;
layers of yellowing silt shifting until
they all saw sky

instead, the march of steady breath
fell out of step with each arterial beat;
one by one they hissed like matches
softly dipped in water