Orchard Beach, Bronx NY
two city buses getting there
sweat soaked
dragging our bags across hot sand
finding a square of space
sitting on the woolen blanket
frying skin burning red
sand crystals in my cheese sandwich
plums and warm lemonade;
down to the water
she swam back and forth
breast stroke, side stroke
her white cap bobbing,
my feet sinking into the sand
sea weed floating around my legs
hot, blurry hot, dip down
stand back up
she had to be able to see you
waiting on the edge
you couldn’t go past your knees
you couldn’t swim
you couldn’t swim
you silly girl
you couldn’t swim away
• • •
P
hyllis Carito, Poet, Writer, Educator. Books: barely a whisper, The Stability of Trees in The Winds of Grief, Worn Masks, Travel Light and More Than Making Ends Meet. Other work in anthologies: Wild Crone Wisdom; Gray Love; Gathering Flowers; and literary magazines: Passager Journal, Mediterranean Review, Persimmon Tree, Voices in Italian Americana, Inkwell Review, Vermont Literary Review, and Trolley NYS Writer’s Institute. phylliscarito.weebly.com