Swimming Laps

 

Flickering moments

a tram ride

echoing voices

and blue water.

 

The smell of chlorine

floating

as teachers watched

and talked.

 

Self-conscious

I thrashed around

and spluttered

as if defeated.

 

The sand

was scuffed

with detritus

shells and jellyfish.

 

Curling wavelets

slid

back and forth

across the sand.

 

Translucent green blobs

and lacy filaments

floated

below the surface.

 

I jumped

to avoid the waves

flinched

then plunged under.

 

One Saturday

Minh drove Kha-Nhu

me and Than Nhu

to the local pool.

 

The waves

were artificial

and the water

a synthetic blue.

 

I undressed

at a bench

and hung my clothes

on a hook.

 

Then sat

in the cloying heat

and humidity

of the steam room.

 

An old man

shuffled in

and sat

grim as sin.

 

Drained

as droplets of sweat

slid down my nose

I rose and left.

 

I showered

climbed into the spa

and sat

on a curving bench.

 

The water erupted

as jets of air

created bubbles

flecked with silver.

 

Kids screamed

bodies gleaming

gyrating

splashing, diving.

 

In the fast lane

impressive hunks

churned

through the water.

 

I began to swim

laps

laboriously

on my back.

 

I became aware

of an Asian lady

swimming towards me

like a kamikaze.

 

I kicked furiously

as she surged closer

her goggles

rising and falling.

 

Abruptly

she veered away

under the rope

and disappeared.