Rite of Passage

The breeze caressed us with just the right cool
The sun peeped in and out, teasing us
And schools of dolphins played, leaping in out and over each other
The man next to us was teaching his son to fish
To our left
The twins and their Mom kept racing back and forth
Walking in the ocean just to their knees 
It was heavenly, a perfect day
Till all of a sudden the sky darkened
On a beach in Cape May
The storm
Came wolfman fast
Sand came from everywhere
Piercing, 
Stinging like glass, cuts, penetrating everywhere
We turned and turned blinded by storm and sand,
Hoping the rain come and make it stop
But no, it was our challenge to walk this city block in swirling sand
Us heavy laden with bags and chairs and hats and towels
doing our best to escape

But there was no mercy from the wind and the sand
It came out of nowhere, everywhere
Fast, furious
It whipped us down
Tripped us up
Blinded us
Crippled us
Seized us
Pinned us to the ground
Held us there
Sheltering, face down
We moved when we could
I thought, clearly we are in danger here
Then the man who was to our right, this angel Michael, like
A ram in the bush, like mercy, was there
Hand to God was kind, was human, was loving
Said he would not leave us, but helped us, lightened our load 
comforted us
Said he hadn’t experience anything like that since Iraq
Reassured us that the pain from the sand would not stay
Not only did he help us get to safety
He had a beautiful son he was teaching to fish
He was a military man
He helped us through the storm, through the sand
This good man, who did not leave us
We thanked him over and over again
And still not enough to honor the love he gave
To assist our rite of passage
Through the storm

— July 2020, Cape May, NJ

Marsha Cann, writer/poet/actor/educator, is a native of St. Louis, MO. Her work has been published in Black Renaissance Noire and African Voices magazines, and she was recently nominated for a PEN America Award. She is founder of The Young Artists for Justice and Peace - 40 Corners Street Theatre Project, a creative writing and performance workshop for teens based in St. Louis. Marsha lives in Harlem with her husband Clement and is working on her first collection of poetry, Hawkeyed Juju.