I’m longing to kick up my legs and perform 
a series of perfect cartwheels in the sand,

all the way to shoreline, where tiny ripples 
appear passive and harmless, then

march into the salty ocean until it’s too deep 
and I have to swim breaststroke

beyond white sudsy foam icing, 
over the crests of breakers ready to climax,

not concerned about the pull of undertow 
or the bite of jellyfish. 

Lois Perch Villemaire writes poetry, memoir, and creative nonfiction. Her work has appeared in several anthologies and journals. She resides in Annapolis, MD and blogs for annapolisdiscovered.com.

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