Sluiced with the city’s detritus
To the glum hands of the sea,
Afraid of dark, afraid of cold,
She turns and calls for me.
When other floating fragments
(Every one a portion gone before
Someone who loved it)
Paddling along beside her
Offer to be friends,
She shies like a spooked horse,
Shivering and whimpering. It’s
As if a girl went off
From the safe playground
For a private walk and found
Herself in the wrong neighborhood
–Strange cars, strange businesses,
Too many ugly grown-ups
And none her mom. She knows
There can be no real danger
Yet it is dark, it’s cold,
The ebb tide flows so swiftly,
The searching kisses of fish,
The ironic salute of crabs,
The ghostly-pallid weeds
Never comfort a person.
Isn’t she too big to cry?
Of course, to cry is dumb,
To be brave is smart,
Yet her lip trembles,
Carry me, mama. Sweetheart,
I hear you, I will come.
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