City pool

Screams smack the water,
and whistles scold divers,
but it’s the low, rhythmic
slup of waves against breast
that delivers you from
braised shoulders, chlorine eyes

And the sun of your youth
charms forgotten old pennies,
as you push through a
blue-drunk oblivion,
enthralled by anemone legs,
grinning like Jaws

[Like an idiot, I forgot my camera
when we went to our city pool. So this
photo is snatched from here.]