Baptism: As Light as Snow

Cool, waist-high, 
shallowerthanremembered; 
eight years ago, it seemed 
that I would float. 

Now, water slighter, 
less buoyant to my gravity, 
I descended first (my first), 
reached out. 

Spoke. An uncracked voice 
(at last!) echoed in rigid angles 
from white tiles. I faltered at 
a voice not quite my own. 

I climbed out; 
a wet cotton hem 
brushed my fingertips; 
I barely kept my footing. 

It seemed that I would float beyond the font.