As I See It by Christine Stromberg - HTML preview

A Memory of Jamaica

I stood alone in the shallows

on the shoreline of Jamaica.

Montego Bay as I recall

was where she'd had me take her.

On the beach some fishermen

were laughing in their boats

and I watched the shadowy shapes of rays

come swimming by, real close.

And as I stood in the turquoise sea

just soaking up the heat

dozens of tiny little fish

were nibbling at my feet.

White, they were, with yellow fins;

attractive little creatures.

It's just a memory I have

of one of the island's beaches.