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.