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Bigger Blue

Nothing is more blue,
nor anything more empty,
than a swimming pool,
it's dry leaves,
and cracked bottom,
a heart of light, and old rain,
glittered-out, with winking shards,
worn numb, by the concrete of
some Hollywood life,
drained into pictures,
turning to the skies,
sitting knee-sprung,
poised over,
an unreflective gulf,
with different strokes,
all triumphant blue is lost,
and as these moments,
are wind measured,
with floating dust,
cracked glass,
and shelved light,
perhaps i'll see you again,
returning,
like a swimmer,
or perhaps,
I won't see this day again,
a swimming pool, and an echo
a librarian, skimming pages,
splashed like leaves,
the colours of hopeful love.

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