The family pool
How can a pool not be?
A constant since childhood.
Flying down the slide
in creative variations;
Constant danger of getting tossed in
If you foolishly wandered the edge.
Raft wars; Marco Polo
Lying out with (back then)
Baby oil and tanning reflectors,
Hot creamy lotion, greased arms
coconut and banana smells.
Baking until you needed to jump
Cool, cool water. Emerge dripping.
Kiss-108 blaring and the Saturday
ritual listening of Wishing on A Star.
A pool for all the neighborhood kids
an everyone’s pool
all day, mornings, afternoons.
Popsicles and chips and tonic (not soda!)
Soggy towels, stubbed toes, burning cement.
And best of all, floating, languid, on
a raft, staring up.
Treetops, clouds, sky.
Now the pool is
taken over by the young
Nephews, nieces, their friends.
Still shouts and screams.
And for me, still floating.
Looking at the sky.