Double dipping

Every twelve hours
If we could

Sunrise and sunset
Dawn and dusk
Togs and towel

Midday and midnight
If you wish
High noon and high moon

Every twelve hours
If we could
High tide and low tide
(Or would they be the same?)

If not every twelve
At least twice a day

A dip in the morning
A dip in the evening
Or the arvo
If that works for you

A swim in the ocean
In a river, a creek
A dip in a pool
A pond, a lake, a dam
A bath if it comes to that
The nurse helping you in and out

Summer? Easy
Autumn. Likely
Spring. Tempting

Sand and sea
Beach and buoy
Salt and spray

River banks and rips
If you’re game

Even on a still day
The sea is moving
Never as smooth as what we say
‘Like glass.’

When the wind comes
Catch a bus, a train, a tram
Catch a wave
Into shore

Every twelve hours
If we could

Ride a bike
Drive a car
Walk, jog, run

Into the water
the water
the water

Warrina Inn swimming pool

Churning up the water, perfecting my non-technique.

Week 48 – the foil of memories

Week 48 – Saturday 27 April to Friday 3 May 2013

This week, a poem from Willy Dolphin Tom Cannon – not about swimming but about life and loss and the like.


Sodden ground beneath my feet the sweet smell of wet grass baked by intermittent sunlight

Huge curtains of fat black clouds moving across the sky the hills painted shiny green with eucalypts

The green running to waters edge which like a child’s mood changes frequently

My innocent self painted childhood experiences in this place of beauty the seabirds watching

Family friends spending time as often the clouds would send the rain to freshen the landscape fatten the lake

In the background the radio broadcast of a suburban game as we waited for the weather

To chase a bloated footy slippery sodden like the ground as we danced the Easter dance

Anticipating shiny bundles of sweetness amongst the warm murmurings of family and place

The foil of memories ripped but shiny warm tastes of yesteryear hinting at the world adults forget

Let us all smell wet earth and praise the moment, for some sorrow too great to overcome

In seconds of madness that take our innocent wrap their memory in the glitter of sweet moments


Tom Cannon 20 March 2013





Scoreboard: 336 swims down, 29 to go.