When Dawn Spread Out Her Fingertips Of Rose
When Dawn spread out her fingertips of rose,
by William Jackson
we went down to the sea, and there in the shallows,
in a protected place, you lay on your back in the brine,
gently buffeted by the incoming tide as I carefully upheld you
in my arms.
The small of your back rested upon the palm of my left hand,
and I cradled your face in the crook of my right arm.
Every now and again, I turned my back to the swells
to stop a rogue wave from crashing over you,
to protect your eyes from the stinging spray.
All the while your auburn hair spread out like a fan,
dancing in the water and gracefully trailing behind us,
and at length I flipped you onto your stomach,
one hand under the breastbone, the other around your slender hips.
Shortly thereafter, forcefully kicking against the undertow,
tirelessly outstretching each arm and hand in turn,
you demonstrated an Australian crawl of sorts.
And we both laughed when you exclaimed,
'Poseidon will simply have to wait;
his underlings must scour the seas elsewhere
in hopes of finding a more suitable mermaid! '
Even now I am amazed at the depth of your trust,
the way you, who prior to this day, had never so much as
waded into a cow tank, a pond, a river, or even a pool,
splashed in the surf.
I still remember teaching you to close your eyes,
to blow bubble after bubble into the ever surging tide.
I will never forget, how at the end of your lesson,
you draped your arms around my neck,
rewarding me with a salty kiss.