6.21.2008

Night Swimming

My Mom steamrolls up and down the length of the pool, counting laps. Put her in the water and she is swift and efficient in her calorie burning.

I took swimming lessons when I was little. I know how to do the crawl and the breast stroke, the back stroke and the apple-picking side stroke. I don't use them much.

I lay sprawled out in my back float, counting stars. I watch the Big Dipper blink back at me, just as he did from my roof in Brooklyn last weekend, just as he's done for years from a variety of longitudes and latitudes. My ears, submerged, track the glurps and gurgles of the pipes.

Weightlessness is not overrated.

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