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.