The other day something happened that really struck a chord with me. I've been turning it over and over in my mind. I know there's something poetic hidden within, but I can't seem to pull it out. Fuck it. I'm sharing it anyway.

Monday night The Chicken and I went to the health club to go swimming. After we swim, Chicken knows I always sit in the whirlpool for a while. It frustrates him that I do this, but he mostly understands it's the price of admission. No whirlpool means a lot less swimming.

I sat in the churning water, leaning in the corner with my arms on the tile. Chicken was laying next to me with his head on my bicep. I continued to sit there until after the timer expired and the jets turned themselves off. The water slowly calmed. I sat there several more minutes, trying to slow my breathing and watching the water still.

There were two others in the room, aside from the disinterested lifeguard. There was a boy and a girl in the pool, both of them about 13 years old. The way they splashed and roughhoused was tentative. They seemed uncomfortable touching each other, but they awkwardly kept at it. They looked like they were just beginning to learn their own sexuality, and in that context it seemed obvious they were attracted to each other. I tried to imagine what they were thinking, how they were feeling. I imagine it a perfect balance of confusion and excitement. They were fumbling through something new, something wonderful and yet uncomfortably foreign.

I was struck by the contrast of all of us. They were laughing and blundering through their sweet turmoil. I was thirty feet away and was trying my best to achieve perfect stillness, trying to will the water to be as smooth as glass. It was a perfect moment.

I know there's a haiku hiding in there, but I'll be damned if I can find it.