Underneath

There are tide pools
On the coast of Oregon
At ebb tide
On rare days
Sometimes waist-deep

Once when I was small
My parents walked me to the shore
Along the edge
Of a dozen ruffling pools
I stood at one alone
And inexplicably jumped
Or fell
And impossibly
Looked up from beneath
Water in my yellow raincoat
Holding me under
Until their shadows
Hovered over
And hauled me out
Denims wet to the knees
Angry and scared but I wasn’t

Then silent at home
They put me in a warm shower
Salt and sand
Circled
Down the drain