Flippering into the sea,
bounced around by waves
more than I like, always
a beginner every time

I hit salt water, fogging
the mask, trying to clear
the snorkel, liquid
reminders that I am a

visitor in this world.
When I finally feel my
shoulders relax and
fin gently, no matter

how strong the surf,
my breathing evens out,
and the convict tang
darting below me

seem to linger a bit,
the shy humuhumu
not zipping away as fast.
And when a great

domed shadow appears,
flying slowly through
her realm, I hang
suspended, think,

aloha, honu,
grateful for a visitation
from this long-lived
sea goddess. Then

I don’t mind the surf
nudging my floating
tourist self landward,
where I will stumble

as I find my footing,
sink into soft sand
as the tide pulls out
and I wobble,

subject to gravity
and air, merely
human again.

•••

convict tang: a tropical surgeonfish with a creamy/silver body and black vertical stripes

humuhumunuknukuapua’a: Hawaiian triggerfish, the state fish, with a blue upper lip and a black chevron
down its sides; name checked in the song, “My Little Grass Shack in Kealakekua, Hawaii.”