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

Categories: Poetry

Tagged as: meditation Mississippi poem poetry pool swimming

Catherine Hamrick

Soul deep storyteller and editor with a passion for social media, gardens, the South, French culture, art, and literary classics