Hackney Lido with the Nuttalls

Serena says it’s like dying every time.
Jean-Philippe brought flippers for his hands.
We took the baby, she turned blue and cried.

Rare and precious, from another land,
my friends arrive. They swim at Hackney Lido.
In Sacré Cœur, we just fit on their floor

They make a camp for the bigger kids, we go
to the foot of their cathedral and play boules,
eat merguez in a cafe, drink red wine.

The water shines and pebbles on the tiles
I hold the baby, shiver on the side;
the Nuttalls neatly stipple through the light.

Natalie Shaw works hard for a living.Her poems appear in various print and online journals and anthologies, most recently Pod and Chronicles of Eve. https://natalieshawpoems.wordpress.com