Tell the sea what you’re going to do: walk
out to where your toes can no longer skim
the rippled sand-bottom. Then fall, supine,
to float in abeyance on crest and trough,
past the rip currents, beyond the lifeguards.
And now, ears under water, you hear all
that swims beneath while, eyes above, you see
light at the point of refraction, sky blue
and white light bending into another
medium that holds you so soft and still
until, after minutes, hours, years, decades,
when you’ve attracted no one’s attention,
you raise both arms. You arc, prone, towards shore,
and you’re so dead, so alive, that you lie:
you’ll never again turn your back on the sea.
Kevin Griffin is an English and Creative Writing teacher at Detroit Catholic Central High School. He lives in Plymouth, Michigan, with his wife and sons. His first chapbook, Line and Hook, was published by the Michigan Writers Cooperative Press. His poetry has appeared in The Broad River Review, Up North Lit, Sheepshead Review, Common Ground Review, The MacGuffin, and Sand Hills Literary Magazine, among other publications. He is currently at work on his second collection.
Andrea Damic is an amateur photographer and author of micro fiction, flash fiction and poetry. She lives in Sydney, Australia. She has always loved capturing moments in life, from objects and nature to people and their interactions. Her photographs have been published or are forthcoming in Fusion Art’s Exhibitions, Door Is A Jar Magazine, Rejection Letters, The Piker Press, Spillwords and Verum Literary Press. Her words have been published or are forthcoming in 50-Word Stories, Paragraph Planet, The Dribble Drabble Review, 50 Give or Take (Vine Leaves Press) Anthology, The Piker Press, The Centifictionist, Spillwords and elsewhere. You can find her on https://linktr.ee/damicandrea and Twitter @DamicAndrea.