First swim of the summer. I slide
into the pool. The cold bites at first,
then soothes. I lean back against the bed
of water, let my toes rise, break the surface.
Cradled, my view is of the sky.
Cardinal and blue jay pass above me.
Above them, trees lean in, whisper secrets.
Higher still, hawk circles, disappears.
With small, slow hand motions, I propel
myself across the deep. Shush of water
in my ears muffles nearby conversations.
Water changes, warmer on the surface,
cooler just a few inches beneath.
I search for the worries, problems I packed
with towel and sunscreen. They are gone,
sunk to the depths, or floated into the sky.