The public pool usually a roar

The public pool, usually a roar

of splashes, now nothing more

than a concrete basin, raw and deep.

No sound for promises to keep.

Just the blue tiles, a stark grid,

where all the summer laughter hid.

A single, curled brown leaf lay stuck

to the shallow end, out of luck.

It looked like an abandoned mouth,

forgotten now, turned to the south

for sun that wouldn't fill its space.

Just empty blue, in this quiet place.