Sunday at Knollwood Beach
While dogs plunge in the surf and boats bobble and dip
on the waves, his feet flounder on slippery stones.
He stumbles on algae and fights not to slip
as dogs plunge in the surf. The boats bobble and dip
where the scumbles of aqua resplend. Motors rip
the air like shark teeth, matched by gulls’ hollow tones
as dogs plunge in the surf. The boats bobble and dip.
In the waves his feet flounder on slippery stones.
Waves, tossing her skiff like a toy faraway
in a sea of suspense, aren’t as deep as the swell
welling up near this shore where the terns dive for prey,
as huge waves toss her skiff like a toy. Faraway,
a kingdom awaits her where pebbles won’t play
with her balance. He slips. Brine is all he can smell
as the waves toss her skiff. Round that toy, faraway,
the seas of suspense aren’t as deep as this swell.
(19 August 2009)
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