Puka Hunting

Puka Hunting

by Philip Scott August

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We comb the beach for pukas

we are fishers of shells bound

by love’s umbilical

as we sift, scratch, and dig for treasure

I go to one end

and she the other

meeting in the middle

we find ourselves children again

and blend as friends and lovers

we make a competition of it

and I declare the lead

yet very quickly the duel is lost

to awe, and the exaltation of discovery

she, me, we, sand, sun and surf

the light of the eternal tryst

a fusion in time unbridled

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