We held hands,
counted down
Tres
Dos
Uno
Threw ourselves
off a cliff,
plunged into the
cool current
and swam through a
curving
canyon where slick
rocks shadow
the sun. I watch
children cling and clamor
up the speckled
grey granite walls,
some slip and
splash into the water;
Echoes of laughter
reverberate
in the canyon as
our smiling eyes meet.
My bare feet
dangle over the edge
swinging; the sun
melts the goose bumps
from my skinny
legs. You bite off
the bottle cap and
pass me a warm Balboa.
Sips of beer and
Spanish flow back
and forth between
single travelers.
