By Dylan hemphill
The Game of Marco Polo
Swimming in an open large pool searching for someone with my eyes shut.
I swim around and around
Searching for Polo.
I hear in response in a faint voice Polo.
I swim toward the voice as if I were
a mad man.
Swimming into a hard concrete wall I hit my head.
I turn around in frustration
in pure darkness.
A feeling of scared anticipation surrounds me.
MARCO I yell.
A soft Polo comes back in return.
Anger sets in, I swim in the direction of the voice.
I don’t know where to turn.
In the distance a large splash hits the surface
of the frigid water.
I swim toward the splash.
I only see the darkness.
A scream of MARCO.
A scream of POLO comes back
from behind me.
I turn around and jump toward the echoing voice
Frustration sets in, I hear a voice laughing
Anger is raging in my head
swimming in the direction of the voice
I grab the trickster opening my eyes
blinded by the bright sun.
We begin to laugh
as we walk out of the cold pool
shaking as we reach for our towels