It was a hot summer’s night
and there we were
gathered in the water
the flood light faded
where it touched us
but bright when we gazed up
The moon was out
and our voices carried into
the otherwise quiet night.
There were shivers that
were lost in a whirlpool
or from the strike of a ball
that left no marks
like the words that held no bite.
It was like it always was
with laughter and people,
these people best of all
who always claimed to be
what they were not.
They were definitely not
surfers or seals.