![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkA33Nh_l2sEmK6ElxFjYsFq6DjJ-qZoJFKuXKJme2P4OgNE3hixJ4lH1wibI9PjdIXbpdZBR8bVCkI52uVYCC9go7mu07SO9jWqg2TiqRH3Am9S0fCelu_qxdSobB1wgizduak8mfEKrR/s400/02seagullboyboatocean.jpg)
Photograph by Tom Chambers
This Life
With Kit, Age 7, at the Beach
We would climb the highest dune,
from there to gaze and come down:
the ocean was performing;
we contributed our climb.
Waves leapfrogged and came
straight out of the storm.
What should our gaze mean?
Kit waited for me to decide.
Standing on such a hill,
what would you tell your child?
That was an absolute vista.
Those waves raced far, and cold.
"How far could you swim, Daddy,
in such a storm?"
"As far as was needed," I said,
and as I talked, I swam.
William Stafford
Posted over on Poemhunter
No comments:
Post a Comment