Swan Dive, 1974

By a great lady named Lana.

L.T. Garvin

When she did that swan dive

off the high board

I swear, the freaking world stopped.

Walking along the side of the pool,

fresh faced, platinum hair,

I was lost in waves of awe and hate –

envy, rather.

The water nymph and I

could never be friends

mainly it was over

a certain boy

who played well at sports

and other things too.

That summer,

my jealousy burned

like the sun rays

hitting that crystal blue water.

She had logged hours

getting that golden skin

practicing diving

while I was lost

in the pages of books

peering through library stacks

traveling those rows of untold stories

skipping to other worlds.

The stroll to the board

even the lifeguard was mesmerized –

nobody better drown now

the gaping stares

of even the little kids

in the shallow end

the smell of chlorine

sprinkling the heat of

a summer day.

Floating up…

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