the downside of popularity (the drowning pool)

Poem #16 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction


they call it
the drowning pool

and this night
she goes there for the first time
to contemplate
as she submerges

it has been a popular place
for an end
to young girls

the still
beckoning water
white flowers

seclusion

so many
have made the descent
on the dirt path
that raises a fragrance
of forest
with each slippered step

she pushes her way
into the water
through the ill consideration
of early arrivals

only the determined
find a place

she pushes her way
into the water
through the diaphanous spread
of silky veils
and shifts and dresses
of early arrivals

she pushes her way
to make a space
where she can wade
unimpeded
into the heart
of the pool

she pushes her way
with her feet
beneath the water
to clear
a little room
for her to settle

finally
personal space

surrounded
by a wall
a lacy-cloth logjam
of new arrivals
but
at least a space
that is hers alone
right now
before the wave
of new arrivals

a space
for her to contemplate
futility
and despair
as she submerges
to join with the throng
of early arrivals


© Frank Prem 2017

Bachelard and me Poem #17: ya-hey ya-ho (to fly)

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