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.

Rise Up by Samantha French