Early Morning Swim
From the glass house that holds
The swimming pool, we view
The slow roll of the seasons.
Yesterday the forsythia bloomed,
Today we’re etched with snow.
A jolt of blue erases the grey
Until we brim with the boldness
Of brass. The pathway to Spring
Is like hopscotch: two squares
Forward and one square back. I keep on
Throwing my one small stone until the
Chalk wears off and I leave for home.