I lay full-bodied on the beach
and watched my son front the waves.
Cool sky restrained
the sun, a hoop of yellow.
I saw him run, a sandpiper, past
the bathing area, hammocked
by two lifeguard’s poles, towards
fiercer waters, cross-hatched.
Calling him back, my arm stretched
out into a line of warning
I became my father,
Daedalus, afraid for Icarus.
Still, the wild sea mirrored
a naked boy in me, flying.
No comments:
Post a Comment