Speedo

He sported a trim brown torso—

the first to catch my eye—

as his cheeky scarlet Speedo

went water-skiing by.

What swimmer wore such racy briefs

in Nineteen Sixty Three

unless to signal secret griefs

the wearer shared with me?

I sketched his figure patiently

on sheets of creamy bond,

fixing his form in memory—

and the memory is fond.

I see him skim the glinting cove,

leaping a speedboat's wake

when life seemed one long wait for love,

hope an unspoken ache.

Alan Sullivan

From Man Overboard, © 2000.

Reprinted by permission of the author.