In Moloa’a Bay with Finn
The secret, he says,
is patience. I fall again in love
with him exactly then,
his small blonde head bobbing
above the turquoise sea.
We are waiting for a wave
with a large enough curl
to tow us out just a bit
before hurling us toward the shore
in a wild crush of foam
on our Styrofoam boards.
I am in the mood to wait forever.
God, it feels good to feel so small.
The boy is laughing. He loves
that I love him. His eyes
never leave the horizon.
Perfect to find the boy giving advice, for children know all the secrets, and adults possess all the rest of the knowledge in the universe. The rush of that ride to show, so joyful.
I love this, and all your poems about relating to your kids. Idea: a book with a collection of these
,,,
Thanks, Betsy … That’s a great idea! I will consider that manuscript. It wouldn’t be hard to pull a ton of poems together 🙂