She Is

She is on the beach, picking up stones.

She bends to examine marks and colours.

It’s a warm autumn day, but very windy.

Her little carry bag is blown sideways

despite the weight of stones and her thongs*.

(She likes the feeling of sand in her toes.)

“I’m going to paddle my feet in the water,”

she says to her friend. Her friend comes too.

“Careful,” she adds, her friend being a stranger

to this beach, “The ocean plays tricks. It chases you:

entices you in too far, then pounces.”

Sure enough, the tide draws way back, and waits.

They stay on the edge. When at last it returns

with a sudden surge, it catches them only

up to their ankles. They sample it again, 

spreading over their feet, which drink it 

through soles, through skin;

then they retreat up the warm, firm sand.

She throws her arms wide, crying out,

her face lifted up to the sky. The sky is full 

of dancing clouds. Her friend also dances.

Finally they rest on the wooden bench

overlooking the vista: sand, surf and sky.

“We’ve got plenty of time,” they agree.

*Note to Americans: “thongs” is the Aussie term for what you call flip-flops.

April PAD Challenge 2014, day 7: Self-portrait.