Swimming In Time

A few months ago he was stuck in the Middle Ages
but as muscles toned and bunched,
and he learned co-ordinated breathing
and stopped feeling his lungs would burst,
he worked his way up to Henry VI
then the Reformation,
then Charles I.

Over the weeks he has improved,
forging half way into each new century
then swimming his way back towards its turn
before tackling the fresh open water of the next.
Today, wheezing and spluttering,
he made it into the nineteenth century,
1835 to be precise.
As he improves he hopes soon
to reach the Great Reform Act:
Waterloo would be a memorable victory
before plunging on to the Second World War.

The dates are of course a mnemonic device
and back at home each morning,
drinking tea and sucking mints,
he enters the figures into a spreadsheet
and runs regression lines
tracking progress.
1835 is his best performance so far,
full of grace as well as power:
eighteen lengths of the pool
in thirty five minutes,
just over half an hour.

Given the hold of this historical conceit
it was no surprise when a while ago
recovering from ‘flu
and really struggling to keep going
he half thought he heard Gregorian chanting
and dimly saw through his goggles
cowled figures at the side
disrobing to enter the water,
pale bodies covered in dirt and sores.

Peter Keeble