Coffee, swimming and beer.
What I remember at the end of the day.
6 am. The family reading quietly on the couch.
A pot of French press in the kitchen.
I pour a cup and join them in their repose.
Rain tapping, then beating, on the roof.
Outside, goldfinch diving into the tall grasses
Was that a skylark singing its way above the trees?
2 pm. A rush of cold and water.
Legs kick, arms extend and push, pull, push, pull.
Follow the line to the other side, flip, repeat.
Cut through the blue water and pop out, breathless.
1500 meters, with my Colorado red blood cells,
goes like a quick breath.
Outside, children jumping into thermal pools
And clouds moving fast.
6 pm. A tall, cold glass and a darkening sky.
Sip. Talk. Sip. Remember. Sip. Think ahead.
Like a rock star without a hit, or a fan,
Tomorrow, a new place.