Air Swimmer

by Jordan Bernal

Breaststroke anchors me
Catch me as I float away
I swim through the air

Flyer

by Julaina Kleist-Corwin

She’s captured mid-flight
Rope stops all hope freedom dies
Suspended regret.

Restraints

by Diane Lovitt

Life holding her down
But allowing him to soar.
Is there a between?

In a Dream

by Susan Condeff

In a dream
I was born into an ocean of air
The sky was meant for swimming

Closed my eyes
And backstroked to Venus
On a current of warm love

Stars, my twinkling buoys
Coxing me onward into the abyss
Weightless and worry-free

I rested on a raft of memories
Found a wave of consciousness
swam past a whirlpool thoughts & ideas

Floating freely
I neglected my path
And the fiery sun drowned me

Olympian

by Linda Todd

I’ll miss the swimmer statue the most when I quit. Every morning it floats in the air in near perfect breaststroke captured in a moment in time, seven days a week for the past three years.

“Remember, you’re destined to be an Olympian,” Mom repeats like a never-ending echo as she pulls up to the training center.

I should tell her now. It would save me the trouble of going through another day of training.

I know I’ll never reach her greatness, never stand on the block with a medal around my neck. I’ve had the best trainers, practiced all the drills, pushed the weights, kept to my diet. Sure, I’ve won a few events but not enough for selection on the Olympic team. My love for the sport has died. Without the fire that once burned in my stomach I’ll never rise.

I realize this was always Mom’s dream, not mine. It’s time for me to find my own dream. “Mom,” I say as I turn toward her and see her bright, cheerful, and expectant face.

“Go get ‘um girl.” She leans in and brushes my cheek with her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I say as I struggle with my bag and get out of the car. She waves and drives off.

Tomorrow. I’ll tell her tomorrow.

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