Aquafit

Mondays. 7pm. The ladies

sink into the pool,

chat of their parents’ health, their daughters’ work.

Their bathing suits are holding something back.

Squat thrusts and shuttle runs:

they walk in the water.

The instructress stands above them like a billboard,

mimicking them: ‘And right, and left, and...’.

In the men’s changing room,

a boy in council uniform

sweeps the dregs of shampoo to the drain.

From the pool come love songs.