Richard Jordan Poet Narrative

Three, Two, One, Jump

Three, Two, One, Jump!

Three, two, one, Jump!
And Dad would spring out
To catch the wave we knew was not there.

Teenage sons
A father who was blind
A jest not repeated.

But he picked himself up from the sand
Thinking he missed the wave
And walked back out to try again.

Later that Summer
I walked out into the waves
With my eyes closed.

Surf sounds
The terror of not knowing which way to shore
The bravery it took to body surf blind.

I like to think I see him sitting there
Tasting the salt and sand on his lips
And hearing the crash of ocean waves

Head up, Eyes closed, Warm sun on skin
Laughing at the joke of launching out too soon
And just perhaps riding the waves ashore one last time.

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Darren White February 7, 2017 at 11:47 AM A very heart touching poem, so full of imagery and gently described.

Wendy Rycroft February 5, 2017 at 3:16 PM Hi Richard, I enjoyed your poem I have just written one about surfing take a look I guess this is a true story x It really touch me x God bless from Wendy x Richard Jordan February 5, 2017 at 3:27 PM Thanks for the kind comment and the visit. Yes, it's a true story, but decades ago. I'll look for your poem on surfing but really enjoyed "Corned Beef Hash'!