for Maria Cadavieco, after 'Parent/child 2'
written for my son Thomas, some time around 1990
The Hot Tears of a Parent
'From whining wind and colder
Grey sea I wrap him warm
And touch his trembling fineboned shoulder
And boyish arm.'
—James Joyce, 'On the Beach at Fontana'
When I walk the beach among the roiling waves
I will think of you.
When I stop at the low-tide pool
I will wish you near.
When you are near
I will reach for your hand.
When you are too old for my hand
I will understand, and be content with your presence.
When the weight of my parenting is too much
I will close my eyes and think of waves.
When cold waves crash round my feet, when I feel the ocean pull,
I will resist, that I might return to you.
Long after the constellations have shifted their familiar pattern,
the atoms that were you and me will still be entwined.
I will never let go.
Poetry by jim
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Written on 2019-07-25 at 10:50
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