The smell of chlorine takes me back
to our pool days – the midnight fence hops,
well after closing — cheap beer and the
innocence of summer nights we thought
would never freeze. Jumps off the third
tower, the splash of water louder in the
night air. Humid dreams; fireflies and
mosquitos that somehow found only me.
You would laugh; tell me to use more spray,
“because they just love you” – the ‘L’
word your nemesis, but always churning
just under the waves. Our last night together,
you finally caved to the L. The next day
you took that word with you to some far
away jungle to fight a war that never made
sense, then or now. Life took on new shades;
some days swallowed me whole. I heard
you got back safe, but I never heard you.
I still use lots of spray — but skip the
fence hops.
Cathy Porter’s poetry has appeared in Plainsongs, Homestead Review, California Quarterly, Trajectory, Cottonwood, Nerve Cowboy, Chiron Review, and various other journals. She has several chapbooks available from Finishing Line Press, Dancing Girl Press, Maverick Duck Press, and Bottlecap Press. Her latest chapbook is Lives In The Balance, Maverick Duck Press.
