THE BEACH

When first you walked down the beach, heading
For the sea, I was an old man on the shore,
Sitting out my time, shriveling in the sun,
Gazing at horizons I would never reach.
But your jaunty walk woke my rebel spirit
And you looked at me, and we knew the years
Did not divide us much. You were for the sea
I no longer a swimmer, not free to follow you
Into the turbulent waters. As you went out
Now and then you glanced at me, saying,
‘Look, and don’t lose sight of me’, as if
I was the safety of the shore while you swam
Recklessly away from land. What I had to watch
I did not want to see, and so the little magic
Left in me I used, and as you swam out and out
I raised a slow and rolling wave, trying
To float you back to the beach—back home—
That tender word we once both loved.
But out and away you swam, glancing at me
When you were taken this way and that
By blind currents and invisible undertows.
And I, who saw it all, saw you ever further out,
Beyond all words, beyond all signs and signals,
What could I do but in my fury conjure up
The angry waves I would have saved you from,
Breakers bursting above you, hurling you beneath
The ruinous sea. Breathless, in fear and panic,
Quickly you learnt to dive through every tumult
I could hurl on you, and so on you swam again
Out to the calmer waters where now you are
Far, far away from me, utterly out of reach,
Though I still look out for you, and you I think
Still hope that I am somewhere on the beach.