Why I Learned To Swim at 13

Tiny pigtails slipped quietly
Out of sight, keenly overlooked
Amongst clinks, drinks, poolside cocktails.
Late afternoon piercing the chlorinated cover
She drifted along its silver shaft
Unafraid of the bubbles, wondrous bubbles,
Baby bubbles, eyes wide, still and blue
Faint laughter poking through
Beyond the bubbles, nose bubbles, mouth bubbles
Until a boy’s appearance roiled the stillness
His arms freckled, familiar, brotherly
And she, unknowingly breathless, plucked to safety.
As they shattered the surface in sibling embrace
She cried for her mother.

Illustration is David Hockney's. He's really great!
Check out his web site here