Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Prime


PRIME

Morning is a swimming pool,
Deepest blue,
Newly replenished,
Chilled overnight,
Rippling gently.
Floating water molecules
Waft fragrant.

Ice cube splashing into a glass,
I dive, do six laps,
Six laps more,
This time backstroke,
Right arm, left arm,
Gazing upward at a cloudless sky,
Protective bubble
Swatting back
Solar radiation—
Stroke, stroke, stroke—
Glide forward, turn,
Push the wall,
Exhaling underwater
Necklaces, carbonated,
Feeling flushed, exhilarated.

No one else here,
I am first one in.

Only turbulence, spume generated by
Slashing arms, windmill,
Churning legs, waterwheel.
V-shaped wake, widening,
Tracks a streamlined hull, torpedo
Guided by black tiles, laser
Aimed at white tiles, target.

Beneath the surface tumult,
Water, transparent backwards, forwards,
Tranquil as a pipe
Fuming wispy aphorisms
Or dolphins wondrously examining
Mirror images of themselves
Slightly distorted
By visual deformations,
Akin to optical effects wrought by
Heat waves rising above
Desert stretches, or
Asphalt roads, disappearing.

Deeper, stiller,
Clearer, cleaner,
Keener, wiser.

Touching the wall,
I stop, pop my head
Above water,
Bobbing ball,
Dripping like a dog,
Mermaid undulating
Sine waves, low amplitude,
Alive, lightning,
Thunderously huffing,
Euphoric, inflated,
Rising, happy balloon.

Life is water—
Cold, fresh, clean.

Originally published in Thought Notebook (April 9, 2015)



Emerge (2012) by Samantha French

1 comment:

  1. Images of works of art are posted on this website according to principles of fair use, specifically, they are posted for the purposes of information, education, and especially, contemplation.

    Gonzalinho

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