She Dives
I wrote this poem in my head yesterday while watching my daughter jump off the diving board for the first time.
I realize in retrospect it is actually a poem about going back to school.
My daughter at the edge of the diving board
points not straight ahead, nor toward the closest wall
but directly at me, like an arrow, a pointed finger
my position clearly marked in her mind: you are here.
She dives.
Her world is consumed by the jump, the splash,
her swim to the wall to begin it all again.
I am pinned to the freefall itself
caught in the eternal split second
when she is airborne, fully beyond my grasp.