PEBBLES

On a beach in Bathurst, New Brunswick,
Pebbles went floating into the deep –
Her face bobbing up and down,
Blurring into the horizon.

My father –
not the perfect man, but
the good man,
the stoic –
went after her

until he was neck deep and I
(in my bare feet)
yelled and
yelled
for him to come back.

She was skimming the surface
When he grabbed her.
He squeezed the water from her face as
He clutched her and swam back to shore.

I have no idea what happened to her –
she’s probably in a box somewhere
in storage, where
sandals go
to die.

(February 2002)