Deep Water Test

Early June, cumulus clouds building

in a mountain sky, the lake filled

with kids, their shining, half-naked

bodies shaped by my prescriptions-

the scarecrow thin, chicken ribbed

kids on Ritalin, boys with Zyprexa

bellies and pendulous breasts,

the robot-walkers on Thorazine.

And I stand in the shadows,

almost invisible, remembering

all the tests I have passed,

how much water I swallowed

when I was twelve and swam

in triumph across a mountain lake.

But today I am drowning in doubt,

looking hard at what I have done

to the growing days of summer.