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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Near-Drowning</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Once, when I was a kid, I nearly drowned.<br>The sand of Old Orchard Beach was in-<br>dustrially pure, each grain <br>slipperysmooth and round.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Here, like a Ferris-wheel on its side, <br>to calliope strains, a horsey carousal<br>cranked itself dutifully 'round and around; <br>There, like a carousal on end, </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">while a Ferris-wheel fenced the horizon-<br>so far off none could hear<br>the wails of its coming-over-the-top riders.<br>its spokes shot glints of silver</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">toward the red perimeter. So clean, the air<br>could fry babies in minutes-<br>fresh and very Maine. Colors were brighter, then.<br>I stood at the shifting shoreline</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">having turned my backside to the surf<br>(which you should probably never do) <br>to watch the driftwood-colored seagulls<br>hover quaveringly in place, </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">when, from behind a frigid wave knocked me flat, <br>spinning and numbing me like the beginning<br>part of Blindman's Bluff.*<br>Certain I was done, </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">it began slowly to drag me seaward<br>clenched in the foaming <br>fingers of its sizzling grip.<br>'Shucks', I thought, 'I'm gone.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But, never say 'never' I suppose.<br>Next moment, I felt the firm hand of my father<br>on my arm, contending with the wave, <br>warning it 'not so fast, '</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">and strong arms hoisting me skyward, <br>setting me, sputtering, on my feet.<br>Everything was suddenly shivery, <br>and swaddled in spotless terry.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">We never mentioned it again, the near-drowning, thus, <br>watchfully friendly with the sea I remained.<br>In a house on stilts that night<br>I sniffed and ate peanut-butter and bacon sandwiches on toast-<br>but my snot was unusually salty for a week.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>* a popular party game</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Morgan+Michaels">Morgan Michaels</a></strong></div>