- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Quay the Swell MAG
I lay my body
across the white of the catamaran, and
look at the dead space between us spread out
like the Pacific between Okinawa and Cali.
I close my eyes for a moment, hearing our
children douse themselves in the
aqueous salt of the sea.
We’ve been clashing tides lately,
coming together only under the toes
of our children. I pull high
waves out of the small drop-offs,
demanding them to dive or swim
sideways, while you let them drift
gently in your own current. We are
like the approaching squall I see
brooding dark across the ocean.
I dive my hand in the torrent of
your hair to tell you.
But you have already seen it.
“It’s heading west. It’s all right.”
For a moment, I protest,
until I see you close your eyes again.
Your face nuzzles into your elbow,
and you drift in that peaceful current
I am used to seeing; suddenly, I feel a
warm wind easing the storm away.