Meters by Yards

 

Meters by Yards

 

Meters by Yards,

Meters by Yards,

And the black line on the floor.

Floating, fairly flying

Flinging droplets to the door.

The black line is a mirror.

My image sets the pace,

Sometimes it is behind,

Or, it wins the race.

Clouds of bubbles rain at me

As I flip right at the T.

Meters by Yards

Meters by Yards,

To swim across this sea.

 

 

 

-M.M.

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