In empty waves the lifeguards drillThe entering with craft. Between them
A vessel white as surf and blind,
Dumbly buoyant as they race beside.
Muscle of youth weakly points the hullInto the green biceps of the wave;
Then the white chaos of its crash
Drives them back, the girl and the boy.
Once again, as lowering sun makes goldOf them, her lunge aboard will tip
The prow above a wave. A clack
Of oars, another running heave,
And he is on with her, but she falls out.His hand outstretched lifts her into him.
The dumb boat only dances back
To shore. They clamber out and haul it round.
Again they run their golden dashAnd ply the waves. Both aboard,
They then commence to rowing.
This summer their youth is what they save.
They reach and pull in tandem. FarAway they wait and turn for shore.
Next summer they will be the same;
The boat alone will age.