Friday, September 18, 2015

Chlorine and Why I Never Swim

Swimming pools remind me of him
I can see him stooped over the deep end
placing small drops of chemicals 
into tiny test tubes, waiting patiently 
as the captured pool water turns different
shades of yellow, pink, and blue
He explains what each color represents 
and claims that the balance is
once again, perfect
I think he's a genius and wonder how 
he learned to figure out those colors,
and hope that one day 
I'll be able to do it as good as he does. 
It's a few days before Memorial Day 
He lets us splash in the water 
behind the "POOL CLOSED" sign
under the condition we help clean
the rough, concrete steps and sides
He investigates the thorny red flowers
that swim up the vine outside of the gate
As we pretend to scrub
he picks one for my mom 
and I can't wait to be old enough 
to pick my own roses

3 comments:

Unknown said...

It's not a rose until he gives me one.

Unknown said...

It's not a rose until he gives me one.

Kara Bibb said...

It's not a rose, until I pick my own.

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