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Pacific Vignette by Steven Anthony George

Wading into the oyster shell theater
I envisioned a ripple
of Aphrodite
water black
dappled
floating to the top
Am I a Nereid?
I was illumed
on the pearlescence
I reached out for the sand

but I was dragged away
by the evening riptide
convulsing in sound waves
I could not resist,
resonating in the clouds
wrapped in the blissful mystery
you should be smooth
you should be gentle
but by god, you have cut me


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