Fried Shrimp for Dinner
November 2, 2012
~
slippers off as wood meets shore
cool grains of sand soften
pumice the heels that have hardened
safety is sure from spurs which did cling and pierce
through slippuhs some
relief as a line of pure sand and shells is met
~
moving water builds
a crescendo in both volumes,
sound and amount
turning upon itself does the wave
water seems to flatten, spreads as batter in a skillet
the roar rises in pitch
softens as water approaches my ears
~
young cousins scream as if they would rather not meet water at their feet
each turns, each runs, with innocent fibs
~
digging toes into moistened sand, I
lured memories out of small craters dug
our wood cottage still exists
smelling of cocoa butter and coppertone and salt and hamburgers
the scents of summers in the sixties
~
cousins, all too young to need solitary recharge, curl on shared beds
still in need of naps, she orders, parents need solitude
no matter
whispers and small-volumed jokes
only the cousins understand the reason for the laughter
under cheeks and elbows sand rubs, scratches
from inadequate rinses
this is a pleasing discomfort
the shore does not allow us to forget where we are
~
restless
we are losing hours in the sun
the nod is given to feel hot sand under our feet
semi-sandfree bathing suits
cold and tangled hanging on shower bars and railings
children’s flags of summer color
soon replace shorts and t-shirts
white lotion on fresh skin
we run to feed on sunlight and water just as sea oats in the dune
~
she sits in a baby pool used as a boat spinning
in tepid rolling water
her hair, brown with streaks of sunlight, damp with ocean spray
slaps her back with each wave turning
get past the first few breaks
where “fried shrimp for dinner and crab hunting in the dark” thoughts seep
into the thrill of riding the surf
hush puppies frying and flashlights with fresh batteries
she rocks in her makeshift boat
~
my feet fill the craters dug
now larger as I was absent, visiting summers some years back
my brown hair streaked with gray,
moist with spray
slaps the skin upon my back
~
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