Swimming, below zero...
We swam the lake in mid-November
For a silly, madcap, dare.
In the distance watched a figure.
With a look of, despair…
A man's grimacing eyes, watched
Fishing on the far bank
As it happens my stepfather, crotched-
Legged, looking point-blank.
Pole in hand; gazing above, the rod-tip.
30 minutes, swimming the lake
One-side, only, we wasn't equip?
We'd made a big mistake.
Sure enough his glances, like the water
Were deeper than, our despair.
Soon we'd have to walk back feeling nuder
Than if our underwear were made of mohair!
But with my best friend walking by my side
I still felt unsingly, warm inside...
poem by Mark Heathcote
Added by Poetry Lover
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