To the end of the pool and back again,
I love swimming in the rain.
The economy of it is such
that though you’re wet two times as much,
it’s clear as day to sage or dunce—
you only have to dry off once!
This poem is so perfect for Matt’s prompt today that I have to run it again.
To the end of the pool and back again, I love swimming in the rain. The economy of it is such that though you’re wet two times as much, it’s clear as day to sage or dunce— you only have to dry off once!
The first two lines of this poem came to me as I was trying to get in a hurried exercise session in the pool before dressing to drive into town to a poetry group I belong to. It was, in fact, raining, but there was no thunder and lightning as there always is at night, so I had put a shower cap on over my hair and done a half-hour session.
When I got back into the house after my pool session, I realized that I had only ten minutes until I had to leave, so I hurriedly scribbled the two lines down on a sheet of paper in the bathroom as I put on makeup and brushed my teeth. I finished it when I got back home a few hours later.
You can’t swim waters meant for drinking. I should have known. What was I thinking? Yet nonetheless, I found it rude that my skinny-dipping interlude was ended on that summer’s day by a cop who wouldn’t look away. Instead, he watched as I stepped, dripping, from water one day he’d be sipping. Picking up and then unfolding my clothes, I listened to his scolding. “Lady,” he was muttering, all worked up and sputtering, “You cannot put yourself into The water meant to put in you!”
I woke up with two of the lines in this poem going through my head. I had to go find the other lines to go with them. I was hoping they’d match up with the daily prompt, but it was too far a stretch, so here it is, all alone on its own.