Missing Swimmer


How long since the last one was swept into the deep?
I’m not sure he fell off the cliffs or went swimming with
the sharks. Maybe one alone, with nobody missing
him, swam as far as he could until he sank.

The women have more heart than these men that
are like boys. They have the better instinct for
loving the edge of the sea, for showing a firm respect
by standing on shore and throwing kisses into
the bright sun downs.

The longed-for shore that no one can reach is
where one must stand until invited to no longer
attend the living ceremony.
Some will want to live close to the edge,
ready at any moment to make the plunge, and start
stroking toward the furthest horizon.

My wild-eyed, young me would often say to give it a try.
A life of being careful for what?
Just for watching who lines up and dares charge
the bright orange buoys?

This entry was posted in poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s