A thousand winters
for this:
white spray
against blue sound
and my babies
giggling
into the wind,
save one
warm on my chest.
If I saw the scene
in a painting --
our little boat
under sapphire skies,
ferries with fresh paint
and the mountains ringed
in cloudy crowns --
Contrived, I might say,
or sentimental.
But here now,
real:
I would live
a thousand winters
for this summer.
2 comments:
Oh how I love this poem.
Love it.
Thank you Tamara!!
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