In the Pool Change Room - June 28 2022

 

In the Pool Change Room

June 28 2022

The middle school boys

are snapping towels

cracking wise

and laughing at inside jokes.

They're planning McDonald's

and calling their parents for rides.

Some are behind,

and retreat behind a locked bathroom stall

to undress.

Others, full of bravado

brag about conquests

more imagined than real,

pass rumours about girls,

and trade insults

with the good-natured humour

that bonds the male animal.

Their nascent fascination with sex

is light on facts

but enthusiastic.

They have learned too much from rap songs, I fear,

while health class

was strong on plumbing

and absent on relationship,

forget about fun

pleasure

connection.

But I also hear them grappling

with the hard questions and deep thoughts

with which all questioning minds

must eventually contend.

Not much of which

they will share with their friends,

but I can discern a seriousness

stirring beneath the surface

of good times

and male bravado.

So I wonder,

do they think about climate change

democracy

the world we will leave them?

Are they as hopeful as we were

coming of age

way back when?

I feel for them

and their dubious future.

But also envy

their high spirits

and camaraderie.

Adolescents

and their fierce need for belonging.

Young men

and the rough lessons of puberty.

Aspiring adults

contending with the big issues of life

for the first time.

Meanwhile, they leave a mess

of wet floors

candy wrappers

and forgotten clothes,

the smell of chlorine

mixed with testosterone.

Or perhaps that's too much product

fouling the air

with its cloying chemical scent.

The silence is deafening

in the empty chamber

after they've stampeded out.

It feels good

having the place to myself.

But I am left with a kind of longing

for misspent youth

and undimmed promise.

Tempered with sweet relief

to be passed all that;

the confusion

fear

uncertainty.

The innocence of youth,

and its many small cruelties.