April 2nd- 

2nd poem of National Poetry Writing Month

 

Pool

 

I had to get changed next to the lanky, swim-team teenage girls at the pool.

I had left my things in a locker where they stood.

I did not want to get too close to them,

like a quivering chicken, next to a pair of sly foxes.

 

Their confidence scared me, their potential still fresh, maybe they will swim

at university, a scholarship, the up-coming regionals.

I am just a voluptuous 30 year old woman, trying to get some exercise.

 

They gossiped about the other girls in their class, the fat ones, the others that don’t look good in yellow.

I wanted to turn from their eyes,

they would also think something was

too large

about my hips too, just like poor Jennifer’s.

I wanted to tell them to be nicer, to stop the hate ball from rolling, from spiking everyone with poison in its path,

but instead I just silently hoped that someday they would learn.

It wasn’t my place.

 

Plus,

I was afraid, and shaking with dampness.

 

 

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