There was a first-timer that day, a friend
from work. Swinging arms, we walked
across the beach, Alex clowned

with the cockiness of a winner on a streak—
eleven losers, another 55 bucks,
this is too easy.

Twelve watch timers set for 20 minutes.
Twelve voices: Furthest out wins.
Gasps at the water’s icy edge.

I watched the others splash past, leapfrog
waves and forge ahead. When wrists
vibrate, we stop, tread water,

one swimmer claims the win. That day, the newbie
won: cheering and whooping, we all swam
for shore. We watched and waited.

That’s an hour. Eleven shaking bodies, blue
lights flashing. Questions, no answers.
An empty ambulance.

***

Lesley Rogers Hobbs (she/her) is an Irish poet and artist living in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and service dog. She loves popcorn, sunshine, Pink Floyd and the ocean. Her poetry has appeared online and in print, including in The Ekphrastic Review, Open Door Poetry, The Hyacinth Review, Querencia Press and Cirque.

You can find her on Instagram & FB: @opentoabundance. Her writer’s website is: lesleyrogershobbs.com. She blogs at: opentoabundance.com.