The Wild Side

by denny bastian 2013

She is the little river gurgling over the polished

rocks; surrounded on either side by earthen banks,

breasted sides mounded in fragrant purple lupines.

As she approaches the potent sea she opens herself

to him like a tentative lover, whereupon his sensual

breakers and needy undercurrents take her as if

she had always belonged to him and him alone.  

He celebrates victory like a wild western wind driving

a thunderous white surf upon an almost deserted sandy

beach like the trampling hooves of  stampeding cattle.

Yet two young goose bumped lovers far too innocent

to be concerned shelter their bodies beneath a brightly

coloured beach towel; hugging for warmth, chattering,

giggling, lips upon lips, hearts bursting with new love.

We two, safe and warm, standing behind the glass

window of our rented cottage, white washed with red

roof, as a summer storm blows rivulets of sand against

a short white picket fence.  A look, a smile, a wordless

agreement to don our raincoats and sou’westers, slip into

our gumboots, yours with flowers on the sides, hand in

hand we’ll walk out the door into the wild side of life.