Summer after summer
I would see him
In the blue ocean, floating,
looking up
to the endless sky,
paddling his thin arms,
moving his legs up and down
without a splash,
an unhurried style, a
floppy white hat
tied under his chin,
eyes covered by goggles
ghost-like face plastered
with zinc cream,
a long-sleeved shirt,
black shorts.
I never spoke to him.
This year he was not there and
part of my summer
has gone.
From: https://wapoets.com/creatrix-2/creatrix-56-poetry/
Date: 2022
By: Helen Budge (19??- )
From Troubles of The World 