Treading lightly
into the deep pool,
I swim in the shallow end,
Though expected to swim in the other.
Never liked that place - too deep, no footing, no
sense of the bottom.
Oh some, nay, many - they like that floaty freedom;
the bobbing of the body, into
the blue water, turning everything
blurry and cold, if only for
a brief moment.
I prefer the solid ground
where I can plant my feet
and play with the water, creating
little waves, and splashes, the droplets
streaming high into the twinkling sun,
before falling on my face; a child’s rain.
Yet the expectations remain,
earning me a scornful glance
every time my long feet
step into
the shallow end.