- Holly Day
Along the Shore
Along the Shore
We walk hand in hand between the concrete pilings, mindful
Of broken beer bottles and the occasional raccoon-gnawed dead fish.
She squeals as we step into the water, lets go of my hand
To chase after the tiny silver fry darting away from her shadow.
Just a few feet away from us, the sand slopes sharply
Into a pocket of darkness. I point out the deep blue shadows
Of danger just ahead of us, warn her to stay close, stay right by me.
She asks me if there are monsters in those depths.
Some great river snake coiled at the bottom of the murky sinkhole
Giant sturgeons slumbering beyond the fishermen’s reach.
She asks about these things in such hushed, reverent tones,
That I am aglow with delight at this tiny glimpse
Of the world inside my daughter’s head.
—Holly Day