Random Poetry

The Quarter

Charlotte laughs at me as she splashes my face,

Trying to coax me into the water.

But I stay on the stairs, where I know I am safe

With the mothers and railing,

And ripples only knee-deep.

The others can jeer,

And yell "Scaredy-cat!"

But I'm not budging

Or loosening my grip on that cold metal rail.

That is, till an offer is made if I do.

"I'll give you a quarter

If you jump in the deep end."

It's Nathan who says it,

But my brothers, I'm sure

Are not much opposed to this bet, this dare.

I think it over a little while.

The deep end?

For a quarter, though.

I ask, finally,

If I might use my pool noodle;

"So I won't drowned".

"Of course!" How terribly kind.

So clutching that noodle

Of tattered yellow foam,

I pat over to the side

Of the pool that's marked 5'

My bare feet slap on the hard wet cement

In rhythm with my beating heart

I bite my lip,

I close my eyes,

I think of that quarter

A real, whole quarter

All twenty-five cents

For me!—If I jump.

If I jump...

Should I jump?

The boys' cheering grows loud

And I tighten my grip

On the old yellow foam

And I brace—

And I jump.

Then there's water,

Around me, beneath me,

And I cling to the foam

And I try not to cry,

And the thought of that quarter

Gives me strength to swim, just enough

To reach the edge of the pool,

And I heave myself up, then the noodle,

And stand

Triumphant, before Nathan,

Breathless, expectant—

And he speaks, and I stop

In my tracks, and I stare...

"That doesn't count," he had said.

"Your head

Didn't go under."