This Life

This Life by William Stafford

 With Kit, Age 7, at the Beach


We would climb the highest dune, 
from there to gaze and come down: 
the ocean was performing; 
we contributed our climb. 

Waves leapfrogged and came 
straight out of the storm. 
What should our gaze mean? 
Kit waited for me to decide. 

Standing on such a hill, 
what would you tell your child? 
That was an absolute vista. 
Those waves raced far, and cold. 

"How far could you swim, Daddy, 
in such a storm?" 
"As far as was needed," I said, 
and as I talked, I swam.

Form: Free verse

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