Swimming Pool

By Ellie Mortillaro 

in seventy seconds


in my grandma’s swimming pool i
sigh the air from my lungs and
sink down to lie still on
the rough concrete

one two

a leaf above moves with the wind and
the clouds look distorted like
through a bubble
maybe this is how they really are

twenty two twenty three

quiet has a new meaning
it is dense and
time is kept by the beat of the
veins in my head and
the pulse of the air filter

forty six   forty seven

i say a word but
only air comes out
it rises to the top and
breaks the numinosity

sixty one sixty two

what would it be like to stay here forever?

sixty nine  seventy

i always come up for air


Write Your Thoughts

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s