community pool

the pool is quiet
and serene today, not one child
with a band aid on their skin
is around.
no floating rings,
no water wings,
no screaming or yelling
marco polo
incessantly while
they beat the water
with their hands.
the lifeguard's whistle
is silent,
the words don't run,
get off the rope
and no diving are
unspoken from his mouth.
there are no children in
the shallow end
with that vacant look in
their eyes
as they relieve themselves
of apple juice.
you peer through
the chain link fence
and think, maybe today.
maybe this is the day
after ten years of living
here to go take a swim,
to lounge in the blue
cool water
of your community pool,
diving swan like
into the deep end. maybe.