I.
My beating heart
tries to
tries to
reassure itself.
Wife stands old beside me,
children and grandchildren
flit before the wild waves
waves break the same
and different like life
children flitting, flitting
like sea birds
try to
try to
wings beat against the wind.
My mind carried back
by the stiff wind
into beach memories
II.
As a child
I ride my Father as my boogie board
then holds me on the boogie board
after he passed
just me and the boogie board
III.
Lose socks at 14
on a beach date
condominiums with family
hot dogs and
buried brothers and sisters in sand
IV.
college parties
desperate for drinks, women
dump cheap Black Label
into rusty Daytona Beach garbage can
beer tasted like oil
V.
Demonstrations at Ft. Lauderdale
long nightsticks at the riots
birthed the 60’s rebellion
VI.
Now
yellow green double red flags
the warnings of life
red tide, flesh-eating
microorganisms
fear of sharks
tropical storms
VII.
Many shores
the ocean
my wife, children
always a return
wait
wait
for my children’s promise
my ashes surf atop the waves.
Originally published in The Raconteur Review