There’s this game we used to play.
I don’t think we ever came up
with a name for it. In the aboveground
pool, we became synchronized swimmers,
twirling in tight circles, eyes
to the blinding sky, the trees above
our heads becoming swirls of browns
and forest-greens as we spun
and spun, once, twice, twenty-five times,
laughing so hard we inhaled
chlorine but spinning still.
And then the best part: we counted one,
two, three and submerged beneath
the water, eyes open wide, dizzy
as dervishes, not knowing up
from down, water wrapping its arms
around us till we came up. Like death!
we laughed. And we liked it.
