My Parents Go In Swimming

White slow-turning light

can see the foaming shoals

so why not the swimmers  

from fifty years ago.

It warns off the night boats

but why not restore the ones

who made so much of sunshine,

whose footprints shaped 

the nearby beach, 

whose splashing came

with all the necessary happiness.

A man watches from the headland of a boy.

His beam is not near strong enough.

 John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Penumbra, Poetry Salzburg Review and Hollins Critic. His latest books, Leaves On Pages and Memory Outside The Head are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Lana Turner and Held.