Poem #49: The Shallow End

The Shallow End

In shadow, the deep 

end was always colder 

than where the stairs,

in their ubiquitous aqua 

glory, first descended 

into the pool.

The Deep End.

Goal of every sun-tanned swimming child,

tantalizingly beyond reach

on the other side 

of a string 

of ovoid plastic pearls.

Terrifying, seemingly bottomless,

trophy of dreams, desires,

nightmarish feelings of

perceived helplessness,

ultimately achieved 

after a series of classes: 

education, practice, and 

heart-breaking warnings 

about the dangers of being 

drawn down 

into those alluring 

amethyst depths. 

Having survived the gauntlet,

Floating effortlessly 

atop the gentle heaving 

breast of our emergence, I 

looked back, to find you 

far behind me,

splashing, sputtering, afraid

to glide into and befriend

the delicious 

silence of the deep. 

How is it, then, in the 

shallow 

end, watching me 

swim away?

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

Poem #49: The Shallow End