Friday, August 12, 2011


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I stand on the sand
of the same shore I 
waded out into 
twenty three years ago
when I asked to be cleansed
into my newly developing life then,
once again mentally pleading 
with the sea to
wash away the shame and
 bad memories
of old behavior and poor decisions
made in the intervening years.
My daughter and husband frisk up
and down the shore, laughing, hunting shells,
joyfully splashing each other,
unaware of my emotional agenda.
I walk tentatively toward the water and
stop with my toes on the wetness of the
high tide line, watching the foam race
towards but not quite touch them.
I step cautiously forward, wanting that
physical and mental foot washing
and step again
and then again and at last 
the waves boil up and barely touch me, 
the next in-rush swirling around
my ankles and I relax as the symbolism
and my request are finally 

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