Can't you see I'm trying?
Perilous and frantic.
There's a lot of splashing
disguising the poor technique.
Pretending these flailing arms
Are efficient semaphore,
waving not drowning.
You tread water beside me.
Then perhaps I'm all at sea.
Up crap creek
without the proverbial paddle.
I bob disconsolately;
my seven-year-old self in the deep end.
I never liked getting my face wet.
But brackish tears run into my mouth.
You tread water beside me.
