Summer at the Grandparents'
by Danielle Burhop

We went because they had a kidney-shaped pool,
and because we could bring the cat. There was

even a barrel where the storm water fell; grandma
filled it with goldfish. While the boys cannon-

balled, I clutched sand from our sandbox and
poured it defiantly into the pool. Each doting

adult gave chase, while I attempted to right
the hard pool surface below. The deep-

end was my haven, where sitting for seconds,
I was able to control my small world. Except

for the pool bottom; its jagged teeth were soft
each bathing suit I fed it. The pool pillowed

my hearing, blanking out the buzz of on, on,
on. Blinking upwards, I watched the boys frolic. 

Return to LSR Return to Poetry

Danielle Burhop is an IAS undergraduate student at University of Washington, Bothell, and is an NSCC alumnus. She has been published previously in Exile and Twice-Bloomed Wistaria. She can be found traipsing around The Loft with bewildered ESL tutees, and posting snarky tidbits at