Not Bad, Dad, Not Bad

I first read this poem on an eliptical machine. It reminded me of so many things and bowled me over with its power so much that I had to read it three times before I turned the page. I just "found" the poem again as I flipped through Poetry 180 at Barnes & Noble, and it grabbed me just the same. Since it's Father's Day Weekend and all, I thought I'd post it:

Not Bad, Dad, Not Bad

I think you are most yourself when you are swimming;
slicing the water with each stroke,
the funny way you breathe, your mouth cocked
as though you're yawning.

You're neither fantastic nor miserable
at getting from here to there.
You wouldn't win any medals, Dad,
but you wouldn't drown.

I think how different everything might have been
had I judged your sidestroke, your butterfly,
your Australian crawl.

But I always thought I was drowning
in that icy ocean between us,
I always thought you were moving too slowly to save me,
When you were moving as fast as you can.

Jan Heller Levi