stands on the lip of the pool
, looking down. Inflatable bright orange "Swim Easy
" flotation cushions jut out awkwardly from each skinny arm, and a bright blue life jacket
is strapped across his (barely) three year old chest. Sunlight, pounding and hot, is caught in the clear chlorinated water
and reflected back in countless, shimmering
dots of light. He squints
his face at its intensity. He eyes the water longingly
, envious of the kids already moving through it.
him to jump in. If I could
, I would inhabit him
, have him throw away the "Swim Easy" and life jacket, dive into the shallow water
, feel the coolness
moving swiftly around me, swim the length of the pool beneath the surface
, come up with a slight gasp
at the far end, shake the water from my hair. I would see the pool
, the parents
, the other kids
, through his eyes, and he would not fear
any of it anymore.
Squinting at the bright crystal
waters, toes curling over the warm concrete lip
of the pool, he stands still, waiting, not yet ready
to jump in.