I never toe-squished from a rocky shore
To wade into a duck-and-water cover
That would salvage my muddy, sidestepping soul.
The Mississippi sun’s baptismal fire
Plunged me into chlorined, green-tiled bliss,
A state of grace fogging my plastic goggles.
This daily meditation ran long and lean,
Broken by 32 concrete-grazed flip turns,
The wake of steadily churned whip kicks,
And, in the instant of breath pop-ups,
Poolside yacks and kids’ shrill thrills in the shallows.
Polka dots snowed my slick nylon Speedo—
Oh, for the cloudy sound of life underwater!
Daily Post Prompt: Immerse
Soul deep storyteller, poet, copywriter, and editor with a passion for wordplay, gardens, literature, and the South