Buckaroo Swimming Pool

They piled into the little rust bucket of a truck

Three people and what felt like 12 hundred dogs

Bathing suits worn beneath their clothes

And trundled their way up the hill

And flung themselves away from the heat of the day

Into the comforting

Icy embrace

Of the lake way up high on the mountain

A tangle of fishing poles

 Seaweedy hair and a nip out of papa’s flask

As they watched the sun make its slow descent

Felt the mud squish beneath their feet

Having fun, splashing around

In a buckaroo swimming pool