Swimming Pool
A swimming pool in front of me,
It glistens with a eb’ny sheen;
One step, two steps, three steps, four,
I walk towards its concrete shore;
Five steps: I stand at the edge;
A wet drop waits behind the ledge;
The depths are dark, somewhat unclean;
Beyond lurk comforts yet unseen;
Relax, my dear, jump in, jump in,
It’s high time that you had a swim;
The world is cold but the water’s warm
And you should rest without self-harm.
My veined eyelids are fluttering;
Blood flow seems to be sputtering;
The water ripples; it reflects
The moon above; it, too, expects
For me to listen to the voice;
I contemplate this spoken choice
Of down or up, of wet or dry;
I hear it in my mind’s right eye:
Relax, my dear, jump in, jump in,
It’s high time that you had a swim;
The world is cold but the water’s warm
And you should rest without self-harm.
The swimming pool is oh-so-deep,
Yet there, I could finally sleep;
But I never liked being wet—
The choice stays there, not chosen... yet.
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