Today my pool
Becomes an atlas,
A geography
Of scenes,
Past and present.

The parallel tiles
On the floor of the pool
Reflect Etruscan symmetry;
I am an emperor
Reclining in my Roman bath.

The sunlight tiptoes
On the water's surface, then
Dances on the floor of the pool,
The fantastic squiggles
And swirls of light
Make me a caliph
Reciting prayers from the Koran
Inscribed on lattice-like
Walls of a castle
In Granada.

The crystalline light
Sparkles on each of the glass
Tiles on the windowed wall,
Taking me to a Norman
Cathedral in England,
Where I behold
Jewels above me
In the spaciousness
Of Gothic piety.

As I backstroke
The rows of corrugated steel
Of the flat ceiling overhead
Carry me clicking and clacking
Along the ties
Of a Transiberian railway,
Repetitive, casting
A hypnotic spell.

And, best of all,
Sidestroking,
One eye open,
One eye closed,
I watch my nose,
A triangled sail
On a felucca,
Pink in the sunset,
Floating serenely
Up the sacred Nile.

Finally, tiring,
My body feels blubbery,
Exhausted, passive.
I am a walrus
Relaxed in the warmth
Of the Arctic sun
Dreaming lazily,
On an ice floe,
Unaware
Of an Eskimo hunting party
Approaching with sharp
Bone-tipped harpoons,
In search of supper.