Kayla Elliott
I’m one ocean out of many – waves hitting
shore, consistently but without intent,
tides at the mercy of the moon and its alignment.
The sunrise bringing promised picture-perfect
skies, light reflecting off the surface, concealing
any dark secrets that may lay deeper,
too deep to want to uncover, that’s why only
five percent of me has been explored.
That five percent, still quite dangerous,
sharks, jellyfish, currents so strong
they can pull you right out, unable to make
your way back to shore, so you never go further
than waist-deep, usually just there to lay on
the sand, reading, tanning, and maintaining
your self-image. When the weather begins to
drop, I’m left behind for warmer,
more comforting things, but at the first sign
of spring, conch shells echo the whispers of
“Can we go back to the beach?”