the summer pool

the water looks
nice an icy blue.
I see the sky reflected in the wide
still well,
the line of white
settled
across its bow.
a life guard in his chair
reading a magazine,
staring into the abyss
of his phone.
not a soul is in.
it's early and the kids
are at school.
an old woman is knitting
in the shade
on a long plastic chair.
a straw moves towards
her lips.
I think about my age.
how I used to lie
in the open sun for
hours, copper tone silked
across my yet lined skin.
at some point the heat
would be too much
and i'd jump into the cool
expanse
of the summer pool.
there was nothing to it.
jumping in like that.
it was a joyful
leap of faith
that the water would hold
me, that the bottom was far
away.
that the chill would
subside. I don't do that
anymore.
I've learned, as I've learned
with many things, the hard
way. Now I wait.
my winter is fast
approaching.