Is a watery mosh pit.
My twins are the slam dancers
Feeling the music-
Joyfully careening into strangers.
They are two independently floating
Pieces of flotsam.
They bob up and down
In their red life jackets,
As the waves crash at them
From either side,
Dousing them happily.
I am the yellow shirted bouncer
Facing away from the stage
With ear plugs in,
Annoyed with the jostling
And splashing.
"Too deep"
"Come back"
I am still clinging to the idea of safety.
I am trying not to be a stick in this mud.
I should jump in with them
And float
And bob
And dance.
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