This poem was written for a poetry class I took in the the fall of 1997 while attending college in Florida.  It seemed like a  fitting post as the summer draws to an end.

Parking along the narrow road
quickly piling out with towels in hand
before the next stream of road warriors speed by

Sauntering down the cool tunnel of green
talking loudly of the joys of summer
a sharp left down a narrow path
glimpse the lake through the foliage

Breaking through upon a rust-orange lake
wrapped in a blue-sky blanket
a steep bank of red sand leads to paradise
the road racer’s engines break through the wall of green
dropping towels next to the massive old birch
that holds the key to our high for the day

Grabbing the rope
climbing the pine tree to the top platform
looking out over the orange water

Gripping the rope
frail as it hangs from the mighty birches out-stretched branch
pulling the rope tight
a deep breath
a small prayer the rope does not break

Leap

Whoops and yells from companions
chase you as you fly over the water
arms stiff
knuckles while
heart pumping fast as the rope reaches it climax
looking down 30 feet to orange water

Letting go

Plunging into the cool water

Silence

Shooting back to the surface
screaming with joy