The old men talk about Skopje at the pool where
I do my twenty. Drum-tight bellies becoming boulders.
Swim? Never, but they can’t wait to get their gear off and recline
– bronzed Aristotle and pupil – on the warm cement.
My arm goes down in the water, propelling me
through that which would close over but for the next and the next.
A propagation of waves and then empty as ever
but for unsteady counting and my breath.
Walking on the sand my way already gone
under the suds: ahead nothing and behind……. each cloud
each wave the same despite the incremental tide:
it’s like turning the wheel, like flying,
…………………………………………….ahead there’s a T and a wall.
They’re still at it – one’s got a banana and the other’s
talking about Alexander to the ends of the world.
Image – Mosaic, Alexander the Great, c/- Wikimedia; written for dverse, the poet’s pub where Paul is hosting and asks us to write about change.
Peter Frankis writes 
Change and NoChange. You give stark images
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Wow. Excellent poem. On the surface there is change. In the water, not so much.
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Evocative and well written.
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Thanks Beverly
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Change of time and space, Just different characters to play the part. Like your comparison to the Roman age.
Dwight
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Exactly 🙂
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Love the layers in this… the change and the water, and everything that stays the same
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I like this poem’s buoyancy (the cool water, the counting strokes, the T on the wall) vs the weightiness of the old men (their conversation, the warm cement). It’s tactile, if that makes sense.
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I love the layers of change in here and it would be great to see the same scene from the perspective of the old men by the pool side, watching you swim your twenty :o)
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I am I intrigued by the banana.
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All true I promise 😀
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a time traveling postcard painted in sepia tones and weaving change with the not changing into the core of the poem. Lovely stuff.
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I liked this a lot. I felt like I was right there in the water.
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Glad you liked it.
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Very enjoyable, Peter. I was also puzzled by the banana, but now I know it was a true fact. 😃 The walk along the beach, vivid, where time disappears, really resonated with me. Maybe because of my past fishing days, walking over headlands and along the sand for hours.
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