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  • Writer's pictureAlexsondra Tomasulo

The Last Swim?

A Summer Memory

He escorted her down

the brief incline of small rocks

The sun shone upon her now weathered arms,

And though her footing

was uncertain in the warm sand,

her spirit inhaled memories

of summers past, summers of joy.

The young man continued

along with her into the water,

as he gracefully held her arm,

she might be the queen of this salty spread.

The skirt of her black bathing suit swayed gently

and then it’s hem reached the water’s surface,

one step further, and I watched, as she, the queen,

emerged into her audience of oceanic love.

Her guide, released his grasp,

taking one step back, admiring his mother,

as she gave herself to the world

that would allow her, her freedom.

There in the softened sunlight,

I witnessed the ageless swimmer

whose body had not forgotten

one stroke of gratitude in this

bountiful, buoyant, experience of bliss.


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