A man sits by the receding shore
Waves crash but carry away their secrets
The water smells of salt and speaks of movement
The rhythmic dance of the love spoken
Between two souls
His arms are strong
His hands are textured
His face remains the same as before
His eyes are deeper though
Knowing more joy, remembering too much pain at this moment
The sorrow and mistakes will be washed away
And the tides of time and distance will carry the memories off,
too
Like the ocean transports the shore life away
He photographs my son who is a willing
Collector of sea life –
Urchins, snails, shells, barnacles
My son creates a microcosm of shore life
All the life the world has ever known
Captured in a small clear Tupperware container
I transport my doubts along my life’s inner highway
My son stops from his gathering to inquire:
“Why do you write poems mom?”
I respond simply that just
as you are compelled to collect the sea,
I must collect myself in words
Just another way of making sense out of my world
And the encounters we have with
Love, happiness, pleasure, doubt, uncertainty, fear
All equally real
All expressions of life
All eventually carried away
(Written August 7, 2005 on the Maine coast just north of Freeport...a day spent with my oldest, Kailen, and my dear friend, Bobby)
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