When I was 12 or so, I liked the pool,
adored the beach, and flourished at the lake.
In southern California, after school,
on weekends, and each summer we would take
to water, moving till our limbs were loose,
our bodies empty, and we felt so clean
inside, like nothing else could reproduce
sensation lost since I was 17.

Six decades later, I bathe every day –
I’m not a musty elder like my friends.
Internal is another thing – the way
to that allayed condition comprehends
elimination – I won’t be a grump,
as long as I can consummate a dump.