Staring into the swirling blue

sunlight dancing on the ripples,

then disappearing into the depths,

already beginning to choke

and gasp on my own breath.

I shall not go in.

Stepping back from the cement necklace

surrounding the thrashing blueness,

writhing from a new entrant,

startled by a splash

and a splatter of wicked liquid.

I might not go in.

Watching as a boy my own age

jumps into the aqua-blueness,

diving from the skinny board,

blinking against the spray

and in confusion at his merriment.

I might go in.

Seeing some girls from school

splashing each other,

dunking and pushing,

catching me in their blasts of water

and leaving me dripping.

I am going in.

Taking deep breath

and worrying I might not breathe again,

falling into the deep deep deep,

then bursting forth again

and screaming in glorious delight.

I am in.