Today my son lay
his small body down
at the edge of the sea
in an effort to stay
the rising tide. We
had dug such a hole
in the sand, and now
thin waves were breaking
down our low dam,
filling our hole
and erasing our labor.
No! He shouted, No!
and threw himself into
the water, convinced
he affected the flow. Mom!
he said, it’s working!
But then the water
came in from the sides.
And furious with the tide
he beat at the waves
with his open hands
shouting No! No! No!
I had the feeling
his flailing was more
for show than a welling
of crude emotion. But
I held out my arms
to comfort him anyway.
I, too, have tried
to hold back the ocean.
