Night on the Gulf

Waves throw back, in glints, the hotel lights
My brothers throw a frisbee on the shore
Sunbathers and the ten-year-olds with kites
Have gone to bed and left the ocean more
like ocean with their absence. Water pulls
my t-shirt tight, then drags it back. The beat,
the rhythm—warm as day and heavy—lulls
me, and I waver, but don't fall. My feet
are planted in the sand. I will not sweep
out to the sea tonight. And though the life
would be a strange one, with the Deep,
I will not be its daughter or its wife.
Turning back, I'll shake it from my core,
throw a frisbee with my brothers on the shore.

Originally appeared: Cicada Magazine, July/August 2011