[Poetry] Holdfast by Gerry Sloan
- David M. Olsen
- Apr 1
- 1 min read
is what anchors marine vegetation
instead of roots for drawing nutrients
if this were soil instead of sand, keeps it
from drifting into an alien ecosystem—
like my mother's first time to swim
in the ocean, sensing salt water
in her Betty Grable swimsuit, unable
to identify a delicate jellyfish floating
nearby. Oh honey, look at the beautiful
flower was all she could think of to say,
lifting it out of the waves before my father
could shout a warning. Even after a shower,
she missed her appointment with sleep,
hands stinging in that rented room,
an unwitting initiate of Neptune.
Gerry Sloan is a retired music professor living in Fayetteville, Arkansas. His collections are Paper Lanterns (2011), Crossings: A Memoir in Verse (2017), and a chapbook length selection in Wild Muse: Ozarks Nature Poetry (2022), all available on Amazon. Recent work appears in Slant, Sierra Nevada Review, and The Midwest Quarterly.

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