Doggie Paddle

I sometimes enjoy sinking into emotional pools, where air seems fair, and swimming dogs might seem like drowning fools, but breathing in between the strokes of happiness and sorrow, can cause a loss of memory, sometimes I need to borrow older thoughts when life was simpler, and sadness seemed so fleeting, recurring waves of anger and distress leave me retreating, to the shallow end where black and white define two simple sides, and life’s unlucky breaks and dumb mistakes are like amusement rides, you give the man your ticket, have a thrill and then it’s over, instead of broken hearts, hospital charts, and searching for a clover that’s supposed to save your life with luck and maybe spare a tear; and when you never find it you might inhale some liquid fear, but moving to the deep end provides a larger wave, that yields the shifting spectrum that I find I often crave where swimming simply, taking dives, and coming up for air, make emotion’s spectrum pool-like, and my lucky strokes so rare.