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
3 comments:
This one is posted for Joe, this morning. Darling, you know exactly who showed it to me. I love you.
Is it your anniversary? I recall the mountains but not the season. What a gorgeous poem. Thank you.
CC
The mountains but not the season. Oh, I LOVE having you here! We had a summer wedding. I just posted the poem because, well, that is how my children are parented by my husband. Just like that.
And William Stafford? Da Bomb.
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