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Swimming Pool

February 6, 2012

To my grandmother

A little further up the street a deepening

darkness has sidled up to the turfed porch,

rubbing its back against electric

candles in the window.

Welcome, darkness.

Shadows long, longing and looking, once

into the trees before they curl up for the night

under eaves, skimming shingles, delighting in the cool brick

of a chimney, the fire long gone out.

Long gone out—but not so, so long.

Shadows that called with mouths closed

at childhood, awestruck, fireflies,

nighttime swimming

in a too chlorinated pool.

The pool is gone now—a little deck surrounds the air,

the absence of a pool,

where ghosts of children dive from past to present,

present past,

and the shadows play games of tag

and chase a beach ball down a hill—

children’s games—

with memory. Something you cannot see

to feel.

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3 Comments leave one →
  1. February 6, 2012 8:58 pm

    The ghosts of children part made me a little weepy…very nicely written!

  2. February 17, 2012 12:12 am

    a word magician. that is what you are.
    glad I to have come across your blog again, what a treat.

  3. February 28, 2012 9:03 pm

    Jasmine, I didn’t know you had a blog, but I’ve had a look at it and I’m an official subscriber now. Thanks for the comment! I hope life’s treating you well and that you’ll say hi next time you’re in the area. I miss you!

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