He only watched the sky. 

He came to where the seafloor,

Changed topography,

And compared to all the other waves,

Here they broke early. 

A breaking wave washed o’er his face,

Saltwater filler his nose,

It pushed him down and turned him over,

But struggling he rose. 

His foot had touched the bottom,

He drew what breath he could,

Then marshalling all his waning strength,

This swim he would make good. 

Pulling, kicking; pulling, kicking,

He swam hard for the shore,

And every breaking wave that came,

Carried him a little more. 

He soon was in the roiling foam,

He knew now he could stand.

He brought his feet up under him,

And staggered back to land. 

Some teens had gathered in the foam,

They played with a beach ball.

They did not see as he passed through,

He was ignored by all. 

He noticed at the lifeguard stand,

A sign: “Rip currents – beware”.

No one could read it from the beach.

It was stuck behind the chair. 

He walked right past the man who waved,

Who smiled and asked, “Nice swim?”

But not quite knowing what to say,

The swimmer ignored him. 

He returned to where he started,

Where his beach mat did lie,

But it was kicked about with sand,

His heart let out a sigh. 

He thought he might bend down,

To shake sand from the mat.

But he was much too tired,

So, on the sand he sat. 

He stared out at the people,

Frolicking by the shore,

He thought he could resent them,

That they did not care more. 

He did not think that he could,

Deal with such folk again,

They’d chosen to ignore him,

When he most needed them. 

But as he watched them playing,

A thought began to gel,

It spoke to him quite plainly,

“Never once did you yell.” 

He wondered at this statement,

It began to ring true,

And as he looked upon the people,

His resentment broke in two. 

They weren’t uncaring people,

He knew that this was so,

When they REALIZE there’s a need,

He knew they’d surely go. 

The thought of this now warmed him,

Just like the sunlit sky,

He turned and saw the man who waved,

Look up and catch his eye. 

He reached into his cooler,

And pulled out a cold drink,

He offered it to the swimmer-man,

He gave a nod and wink. 

The swimmer walked over to him,

And sat down in the sand,

He took the soft drink offered him,

Ice-cold within the can. 

“I started to get worried,

As you swam beyond the bar.

I’m not sure I could rescue,

If I had to swim so far.” 

The swimmer nodded kindly,

“Thank you much,” said he.

“I’m glad if I’m in danger,

Someone’s watching over me.” 

I guess that’s good enough, he thought,

Intent of helping hand.

He put the cold drink to his lips,

And tilted back the can. 

“If you choose again to swim,

Tell me; I’ll go with you.

For in my car I have,

An inflatable canoe.” 

“It moves easily o’er the currents,

No matter ebb or flow,

It only takes a moment,

I just blow it up and go.” 

“You can swim until you’re tired,

Or as long as you wish,

And like the old man and the sea,

I’ll tow you like a fish!” 

The swimmer looked and smiled,

And beheld his new friend.

And though the story does go on,

My poem has reached its end.

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