I posted a version of this poem about four years ago but wanted to hear myself saying it out loud. I said then that I wrote the poem for one of my sons when he was three or four, but for the life of me couldn't remember which--the youngest, Danny, who had just turned forty, or John, who would be fifty in a few weeks. I said also that I didn't know a good song with John in it, but the poem was for both of them. And I hope their sister, Katy, won’t feel left out. She deserves a poem, too, and maybe someday soon the muse will visit me with one. That would be nice.
The song is sung by the incomparable Eva Cassidy.
Impaled upon the air
Between me and the sun
The gull hangs in a waste of grace
Suspended on a gust as sure as nails
While my young son kneels
Among stones and shells
In the moving margin of the sea
Lace shawls of foam to soothe his sunburned legs
Of sun & gull & me.
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