Bio Note: I am a Midwestern high school teacher and Poetry Club advisor. My students and I have been actively involved in 100,000 Poets for Change. I serve on the board of the Council for Wisconsin Writers and I am English language editor for Poetry Hall: A Chinese and English Bilingual Journal. I have published three chapbooks.
Liquid sun scatters gold shards to the beat of big band swing jump-jiving across a rising tide. The Atlantic swells over our ankles eager to drag us in, to seize us in its muscular embrace. But the sand beneath our feet slips away tilting us backward suddenly off kilter. We stumble, seeking solid footing each on our own. I’ve fallen to my knees. White foam cascades rough and indifferent as a cat playing with its small prey. I laugh as I rise up, saltwater swirling my thighs. We’re so much older now. You reach for me as we advance into a sea the color of sage shimmering silver over amber, a celebration of the ancient earthly chemistry making everything possible. A massive wave rolls rapidly forward soon to overpower us with our precarious footing. You squeeze my hand and now we’re lifted skyward floating above the shifting seabed. This is us. Once lost, now found soaring in a gold-flecked gleaming green sea.
©2022 Sylvia Cavanaugh
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