grandma ollie
by Vern Fein

At a California beach,
the sea grabbed Grandma,
almost ended me.
Near the fierce undertow,
deathly afraid of water
(our Mother told us later),
she slipped off her shoes,
stood a few feet in the water.
Crowded beach,
hundreds of bathers,
shading their eyes from the blinding sun.
The riptide pulled,
grinned evilly under the water,
dragged her down and out,
like the wraith she was.
An Olympic swimmer
saw the disappearance,
plunged, grabbed a foot.
A moment longer
she would have slipped away,
a tale told to no one
I would ever know.

PHOTO: Grandma Ollie and grandsons (1948).

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: The action in this poem actually happened, which means that I almost was not born and able to compose it. This same grandmother was involved in another incident that almost caused the same result. Maybe that will inspire another poem.

Vern Fein

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Vern Fein is a retired teacher who finally has the time to write and is delighted to do so. He has published one poem in *82 Review, has two poems pending publication this summer in The Literary Nest, and has a short story pending publication in the online magazine Duende from Goddard College in Vermont.