I found my poem
splashing in four feet of icy water.
The strong smell of chlorine
stings my nose
and burns my dry throat.
I gag up all the cold water
I accidentally swallow
as my poem drifts farther out
into the giant wave pool.
I struggle to move forward
as the powerful waves push me back.
My poem travels all the way
to the deep end
shoving past rowdy kids
and serene adults.
My poem struggles to stay above
the tough waves
before it becomes completely
submerged in the arctic water.
I force myself to dunk my head
down below the cold liquid,
but I can't find my beloved poem.
It's lost.
That's when I know
it's time to get out.