When I swim, I look into the water
and wonder where I am.
I cannot see my shadow.
It should be there, my movements
silhouetted below me, but the surface
of the water reflects it back.
Broken up by the ripples, my image
is diffused, leaving me to float
and to move in a space where I can have
the shape I want.
I swim to transform myself into the person
I want to be. Each day I dive into the pool
the light reflects my shadow back into the air,
disjointed and incomplete.
It is up to me to reassemble its form;
my coaches guide me, but I am the one
who determines how hard I want to work
and, when I climb out of the pool in the evening,
the wet shards fall away, piece by piece,
back into the pool as I select the ones
I want to recreate my whole.