Shore Lines

Photo borrowed from Flickr

Getting Ducked

I remember, whipping off,
our sweaty clothes so fast,
wriggling into taut swimsuits,
salt-faded from the past.

Down, down to the ocean, went we,
childish laughter floating out to sea…

Summers that we dove and dove,
through rushing wake and wave,
plunging from the wharf of stone,
we fancied ourselves brave.

Flying out the old screen-door,
bang!, it slammed behind,
feet met fire on wooden steps,
so swift, we paid no mind.

Tripping, tumbling down the bank,
just one goal to reach,
limbs bruised up with stains of grass,
couldn’t keep us from that beach.

Rolling tides on sun-baked shore,
we dipped our toes and screeched,
ankles, calves, then knobby knees–
Atlantic depths were breached.

“You go first!”, “ No, you!” we’d yell.
“It’s too cold!!!!” (Our fears we’d have to quell),
“Hen, rooster, chicken…duck!” above the din,
of warming winds-—then we were in.

Down, down, to the ocean went we…
childish laughter
floating out
…to sea.

Kathleen Mortensen © 2008


11 thoughts on “Shore Lines

  1. Ahhhhh…fun times! I have similar memories!Sandy sandwiches, burying ourselves in the sand then jumping in the ocean to get the sand off. Body surfing.I'll always be a shoregal!


  2. Thank you everyone! I am so pleased that this piece is stirring up memories for all of you. It makes me want to head out to the East Coast this summer and plunge headlong into the ocean again. (I'll just have to visit a nearby lake, I suppose, but it's not the same thing as the briny ocean, is it?)Btw, you caught me GB – I was the knobby-kneed one.Kat


  3. You make me remember.Sometimes that seems the most wonderful thing about a poem.I'm thinking there's much of my childish laughter lost on the shores of Cape Cod. Sometimes when I walk the beach alone, they come back to me.Thanks for your visit today and the link. I'm honored.I'll be by,~m


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