At the city pool I pay my three dollars
and the kid on duty tells me
about the new clear bag policy
so I put my towel, phone,
keys, and water bottle
in the plastic bag he gives me
and he asks about the book I am reading.
It just won the Pulitzer prize, I said,
and he looks at the cover.
Kingsolver, I’ve heard that name.
A Kentucky writer, I tell him,
then suddenly I find myself
in a great conversation
with a dark-tanned teenager,
a shaggy blond-haired kid
I never would have thought
would be interested in literature.