Come in now, my mother
gestures wildly from shore.
I almost hear the tinge of fear
in her voice.
I have ventured out again
beyond the other swimmers
threatening to become
trapped forever
in the ferocious Atlantic undertow,
the invisible hand that holds us all,
the portly middle aged swimmer
with his bouyant grace,
the preteen
self-consciously
hiding her curveless body
attempting to stand
still as a post
in a skirt of restless water.
She has a mother too
somewhere watching.
I always go so far out
I think no one will notice my disappearance
until my mother’s worry pulls me back
from the sleeve of Atlantic salt
with a shrill summons
making me walk with naked feet
step by step up the burning sand
to receive the ointment
from her magic jar.
Sleep close to me, you will smell it too.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 27, Issue 3.
Stan Sanvel Rubin’s poems have appeared widely in the US, in Agni, Georgia Review, Poetry Northwest, and others, as well as China, Canada, Belgium, and Ireland. Four full-length collections include There. Here. (Lost Horse Press) and Hidden Sequel (Barrow Street Poetry Book Prize). Born in Philadelphia, he has called the Olympic Peninsula of Washington home for over twenty years.
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