The swimming pool is still.

Diving sticks and goggles

are colorful beacons

at the bottom.

Gnats swarm in a cloud 

above the water’s surface.

I sit on the back deck, 

crackers from Mom are in my 

hand and crunching in my mouth.

My hair is still wet 

from pretending to be mermaids 

with my sisters all afternoon. 

I feel the sun shadows 

dancing over my skin 

as the tree branches play 

in the wind. 

I am nine, 

fourth grade starts in September, 

my dog is alive,

and nothing is more important 

than what Mom is cooking 

for dinner.