Touched by Water

Every night I go to sleep to the sound of gurgling water. Twice a day I sit through the squeals and screams as the kids splash in joy. The neighbors have put in a pool. We join the parties without invites— a fence and a few trees between us. I bring my own favored pool; at Ottawa/Rockcliffe Air Base, long gone, never forgotten.  

Argus eyed stargazer eager for sultry days

to waste in chlorine filled waters, green straw hair,

red swim suits and a freckled face boy.

Summer mornings spent learning

how to unlock our bodies with

a proper way to bring the arm forward

to avoid sinking or moving backwards.

It never worked at that age,

my friends and I were too giddy.

We laughed and filled the blanks

of our days with anything but reality

never would have imagined

the necessity to break into

the natural flow of things

like swimming through the water

to overtake the obstacles.