Saturday, December 04, 2004


my girls at the beach. I think this would make a great book cover or maybe not... Posted by Hello
Posted by at

4 comments:

Suzanne said...

This a great photo and would make an excellent book cover.

2:42 PM
LKD said...

maggie & millie & molly & may

--e. e. cummings


maggie and millie and molly and may
went down to the beach (to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,and

millie befriended a stranded star
who's rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea.

9:02 PM
LKD said...

What Was Lost

“it’s always ourselves we find in the sea.”
--ee cummings

Here is where the world ends: Two little girls
in silhouette stand on the edge, unaware

of the precipice. They squint into a sky so bright
that the older one holds up her hands

as if to hide her eyes from the merciless light.
Or maybe she’s just trying to see the invisible

line that her mother calls the horizon.
The younger one flaps her wings as if testing

the air, ready to fly. Their shadows stretch
out long behind them, taller than their souls,

or so the song goes—-and yet, size doesn’t matter
when discussing these butterflies, these moths

caught briefly in these jars we call temples.
Behind the lens, the woman frets;

there are too many lines in the photograph,
too many borders for the eye to step, to trip over:

The line between wet sand and dry, the line
between water and land, the lines of waves rolling

toward shore that tower over her daughters’ heads;
the line where the ocean touches the sky.

Mommy, where is god, the younger one asked
after her father left. Her mother pointed up

then corrected herself and placed her hand
on the little girl’s chest. Right here.

Now, the woman snaps the photograph and recalls
a line of poetry and whispers: Yes, my dears,

the ocean is a mirror; you are that vast.
The tide is going out. Waves lick

at their toes and the sisters squeal
and laugh. Behind the camera, the mother stands

as still as she can and holds her breath:
Any second now, her girls will join hands and jump.

6:08 AM
early hours of sky said...

I love this last line. Thank you Laurel, T

7:14 AM

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)