Floating quiet on my back,
lazy in the Caribbean sway.
Seabirds swooping in the wind above me.
Breezes playful seem so sweet,
as the endless waves wash upon me
and the salt sits on my tongue.
In a moment, startle’s reflex!
My hand slaps this squishy host.
Now my quiet erupts with splashing
and I turn to face this shock.
Clear, transparent, round and panicked –
frantic fear from me the threat!
In a moment things have context
and I smile with some relief.
Stilled and curious, I settle freshly
as life weaves new memory’s trace.
Author – Bill Tidsbury