Poem of the Month

Boat trip by Clare Roberts

Fingers grip the cleats, sticky

with watermelon,

as the motor boat thuds the waves.


Shells safely stowed,

moorings slackened, focus

in the moment of speed.


Salt wind enlivens my hair, stings

my freckled cheeks, and dangling calves

are dashed with spray.


Flattened thighs hug the deck

as we surge forward,

skimming blue air.


Bikini clings, spine curves

with each swell, booming

on the wooden hull.


Sea curves to sky

as we spin and glide

through Balearic summers.