poetry

Summers At The Pool

By Amy Thomson

 

Stinky locker room

Our giggles escape

at the sight of our

naked reflections.

 

Light dances on the

water’s smooth surface.

Towels lie under

bright umbrella trees.

 

Chlorine hair

Taste embarrassment

as the breeze raises

my mosquito bites.  

 

Our pruny fingers

count quarters as we

stand shivering in

line at the snack bar.

 

Sun melts down the sky

like my ice cream cone

drips onto pavement

slips behind mountains.

 

It splatters salmons,

peaches, and corals

as it sings goodnight

to the three of us.

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