She meets the sea
The creeping fingers of a nearly-spent wave
advance on your tiny frame.
Digging your toes into the sand,
you stand breathless
as the spray splashes up
into your beaming face.
We drift left with the waves,
foam floats on your tidal bath-
You are fearless
A glob of snot hangs from your nose,
but there is no time for tissues
when the sea is towering and crashing,
soaking you to the skin.
(c) Judith Kingston, 2014