My Poetry

The Swimming Pool

From the back door they look out and talk
About how nice it used to be
The swimming pool was once that place
Where the kids learned to swim
Later grandkids would play
Years of quiet neglect allowed overgrowth
Creatures slithered in as waters became dark
The pool once echoed of summers
Of children’s squeals, of Marco Polo
Grandpa, throw me higher
Now, stay back from the edge
Don’t upset the still water
There are snakes in there
Grandpa stares at the surface
As if he can make the old days resurface
When we visit now, we stay back
And look at it from across the yard
Sometimes I walk up to the edge
I remember how the pool used to look
There is the same shape I knew
But so different, its memories of me
Drowned as the water turned murky
Sometimes it almost looks clear
Almost like I remember the water
But then the darkness resurfaces
It was such a nice pool once
Neighbors say from the porch with hands on hips
Grandkids visit and look at it from a distance
Say they are sorry they don’t visit more often
Now the only splash comes when
A bullfrog breaks the surface
After he croaks across the yard
And no one responds.

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