my wife used to chide me
for sitting too far outside
out past where the waves break
past the point
where I could expect a ride
but tonight, I am vindicated
for laying on my bed
hundreds of miles from the ocean
I can feel the slow roll
up and back, down and forth
balancing atop a yellow board
hands on my thighs
sun on my face
the warm water
laps against my legs
the quiet is interrupted
only by the slicing sound
of round water finally finding its edge
and cutting into the air
a thousand droplets shower down
my new friend Tony is with me
older, but boyish
Manhattan money manager pomp and shine
traded for trunks and a wry smile
he cuts across the face of perfect waves
I try, too
moving to the peaks
borrowing the energy
listening to the sizzle
of board through water
but mostly I just sit and soak
moved by the circularity
watching the orange orb sink
into a warm bank of red
I’m storing this up
Posted in: surfing
for me it’s been too long
but not so long that I no longer long
it makes me ache to read your words
I am lost in my envy of you
perhaps i am not like you
i have never gone out past the waves
i am sometimes afraid of the water
but other people’s memories –told– can let us live like them for a little
I can feel my legs hanging over the side of the board
down in the cool water
and salt drying on my face in the sun
and the spray stinging my eyes
and for a moment i am as free as you were
thanks.