Final Swim

A season of moments,
 elemental,
  a life:

one Now
 into the next.

Colors separate:
 orange folds brown,
  green in gold release,
   red as the burning bush
    fires at the pool’s edge.

Waterbound leaves
 scatter the surface
  as the body
   and its reckless ache
    descend.

Tremors, taut and triggered
 by the cold,
  haunted water:
   nostalgic and summerless,
    compressed with age.

The thin edge
 of the past
  sharpens.

No one expects it to end the way it does.
 It never evolves as the mind prescribes.

Afloat as
 a chilling pool
  circulates.

Jeff Herbst lives and writes in Bucks County, Pennsylvania.

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