the ocean, unleashed
from the sandy den? Do you smell
the salt of the sea? Are the sand fleas
waltzing in the air?  Can you

hear the crashing waves
as you squirm and wiggle,
flapping those flippers? Are you
not afraid that you haven’t

slippers? It’s a hike
for a little guy that can fit
in the palm of my hand. And predators
are waiting above to scoop

you up in their mouths. Still, you forge on,
not looking back. And if you make it
to the water’s edge and a white cap has you

riding her back are you then free of
attack? The ocean is a deep, black world
of danger. And you my baby,
are a stranger.