my son stands in waist-high water
the salt reddens his skin
out of his face spring wiry hairs
thickening to a beard
his arms have become wide and heavy
he splices rope
smells of the tar that blackens his fingers
he has learned to make his living from the sea
(the huge shadow of a bird
darkens the sand around us
I speak, say to you look
at that rare creature
an osprey)
further out from the shore
your daughter is a rock
jutting from the waves
she is rounded and hollow
within her is a sea-cave
her face is a pearly shell
a shining operculum
stoppers up her mouth
her singing is muffled, a murmur
the boy smiles
his semen darts out of him
a shoal of swift fishes
entering her secret place
he stretches out his finger
flicks away the shell plug from her mouth
so that she may cry out
you look at me, say
this has all happened far too quickly
we wade out -- I say:
there is just time for us to bless them
but in that glance they have crossed the horizon
are washed away out of our sight
we two return to the beach
the salt water drips from us
making the dull shingles glisten
our wet clothes cling to our legs
behind us the sun is clouded
the sea is cold not splendid
I am a widow I tell you
but we are just strangers you reply
out there where the great bird hovers
mantling preparing to spiral
there is faint wailing
Anne Szumigalski (1922 - 1999) Canada (born in England)
Source: The Jackdaw's Nest
the salt reddens his skin
out of his face spring wiry hairs
thickening to a beard
his arms have become wide and heavy
he splices rope
smells of the tar that blackens his fingers
he has learned to make his living from the sea
(the huge shadow of a bird
darkens the sand around us
I speak, say to you look
at that rare creature
an osprey)
further out from the shore
your daughter is a rock
jutting from the waves
she is rounded and hollow
within her is a sea-cave
her face is a pearly shell
a shining operculum
stoppers up her mouth
her singing is muffled, a murmur
the boy smiles
his semen darts out of him
a shoal of swift fishes
entering her secret place
he stretches out his finger
flicks away the shell plug from her mouth
so that she may cry out
you look at me, say
this has all happened far too quickly
we wade out -- I say:
there is just time for us to bless them
but in that glance they have crossed the horizon
are washed away out of our sight
we two return to the beach
the salt water drips from us
making the dull shingles glisten
our wet clothes cling to our legs
behind us the sun is clouded
the sea is cold not splendid
I am a widow I tell you
but we are just strangers you reply
out there where the great bird hovers
mantling preparing to spiral
there is faint wailing
Anne Szumigalski (1922 - 1999) Canada (born in England)
Source: The Jackdaw's Nest
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