Beach season is here, and I haven’t been in the water once yet. My mind thinks that’s a problem.
I know I’m not supposed to park
On the beach, but I do, the only road
I could find leading straight to grass
At the edge of sand. My friend is there,
The one I don’t know well but am getting to
Better, already in her bathing suit, discussing
Cards with the other swimmers, because
Everything comes back to work these days.
When we get in, the water glossy and cool,
The sunfish swim for us like piranhas.
But in the shade of the far trees we can lounge
Untouched by fin, and look over the fish and shore
As if they don’t exist.