Surfboard Linguistics

Hauling the board down the craggy cliff he stops

benches at the half-way look-out, and waits

for her descent – steep steps of roots and stones

and raw wood, slippery from misty rain,

a challenge to her untried “goat” legs.

Brief dialogue sitting legs sprawled breathe

heavy, pause, dig deep, dredge for words

of mutual comprehension – comprendo? si…si

See sea? Look out from the widow’s peak cliffs

double beached with la cueva between now

filled with high tide rushing, receding, scrubbing

its echoing walls ringing the loud swirl

of spiraling seawater swooshing in and out

the tide reverses itself once again.

First lesson learned, falling off, staying on

balancing the board, if not herself, small victories.

Wall of water suddenly rises high above her,

like the cliffs, undertow pulling her down under –

board lost, feet lost, head spinning, churned

in salty brine, sand and shells whipping round

lungs on fire, reaching for air, sand runs through

fingers, shells cut hands grabbing, grabbing

feet somersaulting – air, spin, breathe

watery foam, salt filled mouth, nose, throat –

feet touch, spring like a vaulter –

air, air, air, arms wildly waving

“Help!” “Help!” “Help!” cries

lost in thunder of crashing waves.

On the shore, dressed and dry, big white smile

he waves both arms in response “Hola?” “Hola!”

his voice lost in the wind and water

while the board lands safe in the wet sand.