The Adirondack Review
Tidal


Under noon sun we scored repeating lines,
arranging shells and sticks and wave-smoothed stones,
splashing through crab-haunted tidal pools
before the laughing glamour of your father
standing suntanned in damp swim trunks.
Our hands in his, he took us to the sandbar,
so still and unexpected in the ocean’s deepening.

In memory’s deepening, you wash back still:
salty hands, hair bright as dry sand,
a child’s sharp shoulder blades, green swim trunks,
small mouth wide, laughing like your father,
backwards scuttle of a crab tugged by the tide,
those sticks and thumb-pink shells so well arranged,
loving man or son,  reiterative ocean waves.












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JOANNA PEARSON is earning her MFA in poetry at the Johns Hopkins University Writing Seminars.  Her work has appeared in Best New Poets, Bellevue Literary Review, and others.
The St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poems
The St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poems
The St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poemsThe St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poemsThe St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poems
The St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poems