The Sea Passes On - Betsy Holleman Burke

A man walks toward the water
drops his cane, crosses himself
before he enters the waves.
He hesitates, retreats, fears

of what he observed on his slow
traverse of the rocky sand –
dried sea fans, fish skins, black fly
swarms, jelly fish, a dead crow.

He fears a sting, running tide,
unsteady balance. Beyond
him surfers bound from bright kites,
straddle boards, wait for big swells.

Just yesterday, he surfed too.
He smiles. Wades ever deeper.

Betsy Holleman Burke is passionate about writing poetry and is beginning her seventh year as a member of the Surrey Street Poets in Washington, DC, a wonderfully eclectic group. She published her first chapbook, Searching for Hummingbirds, in 2014, shortly before her marriage to an old friend. Between them they have a delightful extended family. Betsy is a floral designer at both the Washington National Cathedral and Hillwood Museum. Her favorite job was working as a consultant to the National Geographic Society Education Foundation.  She is delighted to have her poem published by Front Porch Review.