The ocean was quietly rolling
Wonderful day at the beach
Memory of past times beguiling
I walked straight into the surf
Confidant I could still do it
I waded still further out
Wave one and wave two I maneuvered
Wave three was a total rout
I landed flat backwards and splashing
Legs waving high in the air
My son saw me flailing, gave me a hand
Eventually I was upright
I cannot describe my sadness
To face up to this simple loss
I’ve played in the water since childhood
Now I am like a beached whale.
poetrybyheart.me 
😎
🙂 What a brilliant time you must have had ~ nothing quite as nice as time with the family, and a few hiccups to make everyone smile. This haiku has both the beauty of family fun as well as the realization we are not as young as we use to be 🙂
Many thanks, Dalo. 🙂
I grew up swimming in the Columbia river. I used to swim out, somewhat close to large ships (not too close!) so I could catch their huge wake and bob up and down. Occasionally, I would run into a sandbar. It would scare me at first, thinking I had run into a river monster, but then I would stand up on the bar. From the shore, it must have looked like I was walking on water. At this point and time in life, though in my mind I can see myself swimming with no trouble, I’m smart not to go chasing ships.
Yes, that’s exactly it. As I watched the ocean my body remembered the countless times I had been swimming in the Atlantic and I had to try it again. I enjoyed reading about your swimming in the Columbia River. Thanks for your comment.
I have very basic swimming skills – I can dog paddle and float on my back 🙂 Let’s go together and have fun collecting shells on the shore 🙂
That sounds great, Christy. Thanks. ❤
Things do change allot, don’t they? Lovely as always
They do, Lynn. And new things come along. ❤
oh yes!
This one brings tears. I’ve always felt at home in the ocean, too. Since sixth grade when we moved from the Mojave desert (Ridgecrest) to the coast, and I saw her for the first time – and fell in love.
Yes, something wonderful about bodies of water. In the sixth grade I moved from Houston to a town in Mississippi located between two rivers.I fell in love with them.
One of my fondest memories is standing in a the Kalama River (Washington) fly fishing with my first dog, Cortana. There was a line of cars backed up on the street a quarter of a mile away. One truck driver honked and waved and shouted something encouraging to me. It was a magic feeling. The river created it, really.
Sounds wonderful. 🙂