I can imagine the surf in my hair
and the chill of the air,
when I stand up from the water
so I don’t go into the ocean.
because I’m a lilly-livered chickenshit.
I’ll walk down the cool tarry sand
and pretend that I’m under a wave;
trying to feel the slick water bead
on my skin and drip from my chin
because I’m far too afraid to go in.
