Staring into the swirling blue
sunlight dancing on the ripples,
then disappearing into the depths,
already beginning to choke
and gasp on my own breath.
I shall not go in.
Stepping back from the cement necklace
surrounding the thrashing blueness,
writhing from a new entrant,
startled by a splash
and a splatter of wicked liquid.
I might not go in.
Watching as a boy my own age
jumps into the aqua-blueness,
diving from the skinny board,
blinking against the spray
and in confusion at his merriment.
I might go in.
Seeing some girls from school
splashing each other,
dunking and pushing,
catching me in their blasts of water
and leaving me dripping.
I am going in.
Taking deep breath
and worrying I might not breathe again,
falling into the deep deep deep,
then bursting forth again
and screaming in glorious delight.
I am in.