Red-suited, a prototype for "Baywatch,"
like its stars good-looking and good for you,
she works the day-watch,
an orange float her security blanket, true
as man's best friend, ever at her side.
Always moving, her eyes dance from wave to wave,
watching each swimmer and surfer, the suck of a riptide
threatening to dig a watery grave
for the unwary. Someone's in trouble!
She's down from her tower and across the sand, a flash
of red; she's into the water; an errant bubble
escapes the victim unnoticed, but a splash
catches her eye. A porpoise, she glides
to him, stabilizes, brings him in.
Scared and coughing water, he rides
the iron of her strength and discipline.
A life-giving truck roars down the beach
to help. He's okay. She clambers up her tower
to catch her breath and scan again the reach
of sea before her, sufficient in her power.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Connie
We owe so much to these wonderful volunteers. Thanks for your poem. Cheers! Liz
Just goes to show you a woman can be beautiful and a heroine! Enjoyed your write.
Mary