Charlie isn't satisfied with our short walk. But I leave town tomorrow and want my last swim in the pond because I'll be gone from these woods and this lake for a week. My daughter rises early and we meet our dear friend Po, at the pond for an energetic swim in the warm morning of the quiet lake. Here is the stressless ease of summer weather - we drive the short distance from our home in our bathing suits; I don't bother with a towel, even, the air is so dry and hot, even at 7:45 a.m. I've been enjoying swims with Po for years, across many bodies of water in hot summer - and chilly fall - weather. The three of us start together from the dock and then follow the rhythms of our own strokes. 

I spend the day prepping and packing for the International Women's Writing Guild Annual Summer Conference - where I head tomorrow, for my sixth summer. I'll be leading my weeklong play lab again, and I'm excited to work with these writers. 

Via e-mail I get a rejection from a journal after seven months. It grumbles me for about 20 minutes. And then the grumble is gone. They didn't take the poem I expected them to take. I wonder where it belongs? It's circulating with many other journals; I trust it will find the right home. 

All photos and text ©Kelly DuMar, 2018