Heads or tails

Swimming in the glassy lake,
A silver coin winks from below,
Round and replete with meaning.
Turning on my head, my hand dives down,
Lungs crushed under the weight of water.

And as soon as I touch the bottom,
The mud mushrooms up around the spot,
And very soon I must go up again,
To the quicksilver surface,
Empty handed, to fill my lungs.


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