Sounds

Dolphins in my swimmin’ hole! Well, theirs, yeah? The whole ocean. 

I hear them before I see them, breathing. Hoosh hoosh. Standing on a small hill overlooking the calm Sea, I turn toward the sound. Hoosh hoosh hoosh. A pod! Such joy. They swim south around the point, out of sight. Sunrise.

More excellent sounds: “Alliterative tour de force.” “I love these poems.” “We want to publish your work.” Sweet music after years of dissonance. My short story, Hollywood Beat, is now featured on Witcraft.org. And my poem, “New Year’s Eve,” will be published by The Passionfruit Review at year’s end. My novella, Letters to Lulu, hits bookstores in 2025.

Validation. Vindication. Celebration.

And yeah, I know I’m the same dog, both rejected and accepted, that my basic worthiness is never in question. But, man, it’s nice to be liked.

I credit Habibi. She provides much-needed comfort and stability. After moving most of my life — with long stints in Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Olympia — I am finally off the highway. The best part? I am always welcome here. 

A marina angel stuck Habibi’s name on Tink’s stern last week, so now every time I row I hear Beloved. Must be me.