i.
Tightly together two stand as
one against the surf,
a surf too mild
for such unity:
his arm circles her shoulder,
clasps his hand on the other—
she leans into him, a hand
in his back pocket.
Sidelong close
her right, his left legs blend
thighs knit, knees lock.
Looking out where sea meets sky,
muted couple—not young or old
in middle years, why
do they feel taut,
straining to breathe?
what have they lost or won:
a child—a cancer—a curse?
Behind I softly circum-
navigate them in their
“only two”ness,
their unknown tomorrow
they walk into together.
ii
Further on a smaller couple,
look-alikes, but she’s taller,
hands interlocked and raised for
gentle waves greeting.
Laughing, crouching, jumping
almost
together to defeat
the bright benign surf.
Together, you two,
keep holding those hands:
create a habit to save his life or
hers or yours—
Laugh, jump, celebrate
the tide of life
it’s ebb and flow.
iii
And now in the rocky shallows
strewn with grittier sand and
kelp artistically splayed
she poses poised in
a white nothingness to enhance
bronze bareness.
She flings blonde tresses with artless grace
face upturned
to sun, then the
downward sultry pout
and turn again, hand on hip,
knee raised, back bent,
hand to lip, to back of head—
All the while the ragged-haired men
with camera and lights
plod in the murky water
clicking, turning, focusing, almost kneeling;
who’s directing this
liturgy of worship,
praise to human sexuality?
Is she priestess—
acolytes follow with
candles and incense
or goddess—
she moves languidly,
provocatively
for adoration,
or offering—
evocation, supplication.
out of the shallows into shadows,
on the grainy beach,
she changes vestments and
continues familiar ritual dances
for a faceless congregation
in cyber-space
