the shadows

            cover the sands,

each finger

            in my hand

threads liana

            coast blue

the bodies of ephemeral

god’s eye;

my father holds my hand

            by the rope of the bridge; it, in a sense,

is remote to me as a child;

in memory, it architects

a mist in mind,

orange light



white liana and fingers

threading my own

centered against the yellowed sun

and the light blue of the last sea

I saw;

white lines

            fallen by the shoreline

echoed like a near dream

with father on the bridge

            half rocks, ebon,

quietly that lay

and hatch onto

a summer sea.

© 2020 All Rights Reserved.

I wrote this specifically for the dverse ninth year anniversary.

The prompt is this: “I want you to capture a moment in your verse. Clearly describe to us what is in that moment. Paint a picture for us with your words that will evoke our own emotions and experiences. If you need to, find a picture and write about it. Maybe you have a favorite photograph you want to share. If not, write us the picture, so we can see it, taste it, smell it.”

The memory I wrote about was with my father as a child, overlooking the beach and ocean on an old bridge. It is a memory that resurfaces quite a lot, something I hold dear to me as I recollect it each time. I do hope you enjoyed the read. Thank you so much.

Categories: Prose

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

44 replies

  1. we spent many a summer at topsail island and i remember times with my family,
    the best times with my father were those camping in the woods, watching him tend fire,
    or he showing me how to do things. we did not always get along, but these were the best moments
    lots of nice imagery woven in there.


    Liked by 4 people

  2. You are blessed to have a pleasant memory like this to turn to when thinking of your father.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. I can hear the waves and smell the air… beautiful imagery. Thank you for sharing this moment with us!

    Liked by 3 people

  4. Love this in its abstractness.

    Liked by 3 people

  5. You captured that bonding time through the lens of love. Thanks for sharing.

    Liked by 3 people

  6. I can see you holding tightly to your father’s hand. Amazing what stays with us as we age.

    Liked by 3 people

  7. Wonderful how some moments stay etched do firmly in our memory. Beautiful.

    Liked by 2 people

  8. So firmly. Smiles.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Only in retrospect, in writing, do you feel that time, the grains, have slipped away. Write and relive the good time.

    Liked by 3 people

  10. A perfect picture. I love the stillness of the scene created with so many details but perfectly motionless, exactly like a snapshot memory.

    Liked by 3 people

  11. Yes. It felt like I was there, feeling it, too.

    Liked by 2 people

  12. I’m surprised no one comments this, but perhaps not everyone is attentive. All of your poems contain, in one form or another, but often boldly, both fatherness and the sea. They are universal symbols to you, I find.
    What do these mean, to you? No individually, since I know what a father or a sea mean in their associative threads, but they are inextricable from one another to you, it seems, and I’d like to know why, if you wouldn’t mind elucidating me.

    Liked by 2 people

    • I’m quite surprised no one ever asked me this until now to be honest. I use that imagery a lot, I thought there would be someone curious about what I mean. I’m glad you were the first. 🙂

      I’d be more than happy to explain. When I use these terms together, for instance, “Father’s ocean”, I visualize interchangeably a strong context.

      Now, of course not every father is a strong father, but I use a type of subtext in that imagery to explicate how strong the connection of a father is, though as a word with broad meaning. I find a strong symbol in the term, father. A sort of grief that can encompass perhaps in wider terms, the microcosm and nature itself, especially as these aspects too play a large role in my poems.

      I always think of it as a constituent of humanity, fossilized by a tempest.

      The sea itself is strong. The waves can be deadly, and it’d be so easy to immerse yourself in the idea of the ocean and its personal symbiosis of man and nature.

      I never do the sea justice as I implement this constant in nature in what I believe to be in a negative context like with grief or disenchantment. The sea can represent grief, sadness or tears. It can be disappointment, it can also be a way to describe one drowning figuratively in their mind.

      Now there’s a loop. “Betrayed” by the ocean letting us drown, we drift back to humanity in complex thoughts. The first part of this in what I mean is about our mind betraying us with thoughts and memories.

      Humanity is complex. We see many different facets of the same character, and we associate certain imageries with them. They stick and we can not always associate them with a different memory or impression unless truly impacted again.

      I like to think that because of this memory I had with my father when I was young, it influenced me subconsciously to use the words “Father” and “Sea” interchangeably.

      I hope this answers your question. I thank you above and beyond, JM, for reading this poem and for your delightful feedback. It’s always an absolute honor to converse with you about poetry. Thank you so very much.

      Liked by 2 people

  13. I have very strong memories like this… my strongest one is when we went skiing in moonlight

    Liked by 2 people

  14. This is exquisitely beautiful…makes me weepy.

    Liked by 2 people

  15. This is hauntingly exquisite, such a loving tribute and a lovely memory to rerun

    Liked by 2 people

  16. Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:

    great stuff–so what is “liana”-?

    Liked by 2 people

  17. Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:

    Amazing poetry shared by a talented writer.

    Liked by 1 person

  18. The sea. My favorite place to be. I am far away from the sea. I do have the great lakes. Dear Lucy. I love your work today and hello from Michigan.

    Liked by 1 person

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