Before the Diagnosis

Mom set the pool up in the backyard
on top of the crunchy grass
grown dry under the summer sun,
our young chubby bodies
drifting in the light breeze.

We wore sunglasses in the shape of stars
and floated in inner tubes
to feel the cool water
touching our bums,
our pink painted toes gliding across the surface.

In the big backyard of my childhood,
where the worst that could happen was a bee sting.
My mother lifted me from that little pool
into her warm toweled embrace.

Alexandra Ustach