(Published in Viewless Wings online poetry magazine)
We rented a tandem kayak,
followed our guide’s instructions.
After a few miscues
and mutual what-fors,
our paddles skimmed in sync
the rippling surface of the ocean.
We blessed the sun’s embrace
and the breeze’s brush,
searched for whales,
waited patiently for telltale signs—
a breach, the lob of a tail, a fin’s slap,
a sudden vertical spray.
Then,
in the distance,
we saw them.
Warships rising out of nowhere.
“There!” my husband hurrahed,
and thrust his paddle into the water,
aimed our kayak toward them,
sliced the sea as fast as he could.
Wide-eyed, I gripped my own paddle,
struck the water with equal vengeance,
countered his forward stroke,
and attempted to steer us
back to shore.
