Lucky

For Katie, after Andy Kissane’s “Jumping Waves”

Today your laughter broke over me,

swept me back under that clear sky,

that windless Boxing Day morning

we spent on Blacksmith’s Beach.

Such memories are buoyant,

close to the surface, to the light;

the particulars from that time settled

as if sediment to the seafloor.

I can’t remember the gifts you

unwrapped, or whether, unable to

contain yourselves you and your brother

burst through our bedroom

door, before the sun was up. No

it’s just you standing on the hard-packed

sand—I knew then this couldn’t last—

in your swimming suit. The orange

one trimmed with a frilly skirt,

reminds me of a ballerina. Your hand

in mine we rise with the clean swells

behind the break, and your dark head

dances to the beat of winged feet.

When a rogue wave in the set

lifts us higher, eyes wide, you

want to know if it will be alright.

Everything depends on me, and yet

the gods of mirth and misery, who

contest for front of mind can’t

hurt me. For now I’m one of them.

Published Broken Ground UWAP