Unconditional Confusion

The days are short,
but it’s alright.
The pool is warm,
violets, red and blue.
      The sky is filled
      with
      haze.

I float away the
hours -- minutes rise
to the western wind.
My eyes are puffy
       from the chlorine
       I
       Soak in.

I close my eyes to see
a black tarmac road,
endless through a
dusty field, sun scorched
       and itchy, my
       skin hot
       and red.

Slipping down under
to soften the irritation
I drop a cinder anchor
to remain in place;
       time remains
       one smiling
       face alone in
       that silent abyss.