Poem by Phil Goldstein

**************************************************

We Never Went to the Beach When I Was a Boy

He & I are traveling to an alien shore, alone.
He commands me to get into our tiny boat.
My feet stay stuck, stakes buried in the sand.

The waves roll in, briny & filled with seaweed,
water that makes me gag when I get
washed underneath.

He pushes me aboard,
then clambers in himself—
eager, a bird learning to fly.

Gulls cry in the gray blanket overhead.
He has the oars.
We are rowing now.