The Pool I Didn’t Love

The First Separation

“It has a swimming pool!”, they said
Of my father’s new apartment
On Azusa Avenue
I lived to swim
So they thought the buoyancy and the turquoise
Would make up for the black
My dad’s face had a smile
My mom’s encouragement was thin
The blanket that didn’t warm
I was five or six
I swam there once, a kidney-shaped pool
My dad’s spartan apartment on the second floor
I can’t remember much about it
My brother Steve, fifteen or sixteen
Swam once too
Red swim trunks
The water was always what I craved
But the cloud dulled the joy
A brooding dark
A worry
A fear on a little girl’s chest
I should not have been placed there
They should have done anything
And everything
To save us
To save them
Selfishness can kill
Bury
Ruin
I still don’t know why they separated that time

Dad came home after a few months
Hope
Tenuous
Or oblivion on purpose?
I can’t remember
Is this why I ran, ran, ran?
Swung open that screen door
My Schwinn banana seat bike
Taking me somewhere
Hair flying
Bare feet pedaling
Skateboard clacking on the
Traweek sidewalks
Through the halls at Covina High
Until my mom would call at dusk:
“Juuulliieee!!”
She was embarrassed and inward about so much
But not about hollering my name
So every neighbor could hear
I would ride home
Freedom feeling fading
Picky-eat dinner
Wonder if a friend could spend the night
Or if I could go to a friend’s
Especially
To swim