Turquose water barely exists in my mind
I am only familiar with murky grey
With clouds of brown mud, the splash of friends.
The best time to go is always when the lake is deserted
Just loved ones and the empty cavity above the rippling surface
Fully free to laugh, shreik, and be a kid again.
No explanations for the shorts I wear over my swimsuit
Those are the moments we don't care if our hair gets wet and stringy
We stay in as long as possible, until lips turn blue and toes go numb.
Then we swim back, back to the shore and ***** feet
Huddled around a cold firepit, we beg for coals and heat
With none found we finally put on damp clothes, utterly exhausted.
No amount of food is ever enough so like scavenging dogs we hunt
With vicious fingers and starving hands
Until every last crumb in the potato chip bag is consumed.
Those are the days I want to remember
That blissful feeling, the absence of the weight of the world
The days when the swim back is always farther.
This is an ode to my childhood summers