by Liam Wallace
A boy drowned some years ago
On a beach with a name that I forget.
No one saw him enter the water
So nothing can be said for his intention
His purpose undetermined
His face a blank canvas marked by
Only a smattering of freckles
A surfer noticed the boy
Swept up by a rip, unable/unwilling to untangle
Himself from the pull and tug
Of increasingly harsh
The surfer called out
Before he paddled towards the boy,
Thrusting his old waxen board underneath
A succession of waves
Unsure of whether he was more than
A speck viewed from the shoreline
The boy sunk further out and further down,
Only hands flailing above unforgiving
I do not know
When the surfer returned to shore. Only that
The boy did not.
Liam Wallace (they/them) is a recent graduate from the University of Wollongong in environmental humanities, history and sustainable development. They love reading and are also a keen runner. Liam tutors primary school students and enjoys getting to share ideas about writing with them.
Seeking words with sizzle, poetry that wraps us in burning ribbons and won't let go. Send us your best!