Swimming Heavy...

 

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	8/10/2000 2:45:40 AM 9/25/2022 10:47:10 AM	791

Swimming Heavy

Lake Ute, New Mexico, fifty foot cliffs.
Two hundred feet of deep blue straight down.
Sunshine, warm breeze, mind drifts.
Fifty campers from the base around.

What harm a little bet, Airman?

I know you swim quite well,
In fact, I'm better, do tell.
I bet that you will lose,
Cannot swim from cliff to camp in jeans & tennis shoes.

I couldn't let it rest.

Shirtless in our blue jeans,
Never heard about sun screens,
Jump the fifty feet,
Splash and I won't retreat.

Three miles of cool lake under an azure sky.

Tan stone bears silent witness,
To this contest of our fitness.
He gives out around half way,
heading for the shore today.

My jeans weigh heavy as I pull up on the beach at camp.

Light the fire while I grin in triumph!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)2000

By: Daniel A. Stafford

Author's Comments

When I was stationed at Cannon AFB, NM, we all used
to go on camping trips to Lake Ute. Another Airman heard me
explaining away some of the ladies' concerns regarding all
the swimming that I was doing, talking about swimming a mile
easily at eight years old. It was fact. He decided to bet that he
could swim the three mile lake in blue jeans and tennis shoes, and I couldn't.
Well, he lost, and I'm stubborn and a damn good swimmer, so
here's the rest of the story...circa 1980

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	8/10/2000 2:45:40 AM 9/25/2022 10:47:10 AM	791

Comments
Sue Allie	bttfly9@yahoo.com	http://www.geocities.com/Heartland/Garden/9843	8/10/2000 9:57:08 PM
Cute poem. I feels good to win and here you won again!

A Softened Place..

A Softened Place..

The sky is steel-grey with low-angle light,
Waves roll onto the beach from the endless line of surf,
Clouds saunter slowly past above Lake Michigan.

The beach grass is turning that golden color of the Northern Midwest,
Tawny.

Leaves are green,
Yet edged with yellow or orange-red,
Hints of splendors to come.

You may walk here today with the chill breeze that never stops,
Knowing that Winter will freeze you out in a month or two,
You pull your jacket tighter,
Reflective and visually immersed at the edge of a freshwater sea,
A timeless place where the seasons roll you,
And never the other way around.

The throngs of Summer are long-gone,
A few hardy souls wend the art of a cool lake,
Watching their breath waft up into the enchanted air,
Clutching a warm mug of coffee for dear life.

This place is bigger than you,
It's bigger than me,
Yet it's vulnerable to the endless raft of human ants,
Who are too small to see the impacts of their combined works.

You can feel that immense body of water,
From miles away you know where it is,
Just like it grinds broken bottles into soft beach glass,
Baubles for next Summer's children.

The seagulls sing their forever song,
Counterpoint to the bass of continuous waves,
Rolling, rolling, rolling,
The snare of grasses and branches rustling in time,
The slight notes of wind-whistle a finishing touch.

In the distance,
Far, far, far in the distance,
A train horn sings along,
Yet here is the domain of Nature,
Of seasons and time far older than us,
What was with us in our youth,
Hopefully will see children long after we're gone,
Poetry that is beyond writing.

In a place like this,
A softened giant timeless place,
You can find yourself an atom drifting with infinity's dream.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/03/2018

Miller Beach, Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore, 2010 - Photo by Daniel A. Stafford