The Eastern Shore
I stand looking out at the horizon,
Water around my ankles,
And I watch the whitecaps come gently in,
Painted golden by the setting sun.
And I think about a year ago
When I stood with you in this same sand
And the big wave broke upon us
And ripped us out to sea.
Dragged down and half-drowned,
I nearly lost everything
To the wild, raging fingertips
Of a hurricane out at sea.
But I grabbed you and we rode the next wave in;
Sand-soaked and waterlogged,
We stumbled up the shore
And laughed like hyenas, alive.
And now the biggest of the waves
Laps tamely against my knees
As we watch two black herons fly
Side-by-side above the sea.
(©2011 Cassander)