Tuesday it finally stopped raining
so we bolted for the beach after lunch.
A lifeguard perched above the fray, twirling
his whistle, warning about rip currents,
but the nerviest kids plunged in anyhow,
ditching their siblings in the foamy seam
littered with jellyfish, horseshoe crab husks,
and other odd flotsam left by the storm.
The sun was a new coin behind the clouds,
and the wind snapped warm over the sand.
You shrieked when a wave broke close
and laughed when I said this spit of land
might someday disappear beneath our feet,
a rubbed out slate where sky and ocean meet.

# # #

Born and raised in the US, Yoni Hammer-Kossoy lives in Israel and when not writing, pays the bills as a software engineer. Yoni’s poetry is forthcoming or has recently appeared in Forage Poetry, the Muddy River Poetry Review, the American Journal of Poetry and Songs of Eretz Poetry where he is a featured contributor.

Photo: Jude Beck