SUMMER OF BEING TEN
Gretchen Fletcher

We were beaten
back and washed forth and beaten
back on rubber rafts
like so much summer flotsam
and jetsam
at the seam between sea and land
where the waves spit soap bubbles in arcs
along the sand,
and we said, "We could stay in the water
for the rest of our lives
and they could bring us hamburgers to eat and Cokes to drink."
"No. The whole ocean would be Coke,
and we could swim in it
and drink it too."
And the sun stung
our chicken-wing shoulder blades golden,
and our suits and all our
secret places
filled up with sand, and
out behind us streamed our mermaidens' hair in salty strands.


PUBLISHED: A Summer's Reading, 2002