The waves come – the large fourth wave
Looming up, thinking, crashing down – all
Roll in so prominently that I become small
And write this in a cramped script, hard to read.
Well, all this fury, prominent or not
Is also hard to read, and the ducks don’t help,
Settling down in furry water, shaking
Themselves, and then forgetting it within a minute.
Remembering the fury, it is up to us, even
Though we feel small compared to the loose
Ocean, to keep sailing and not land,
And figure out what to say to our children.
On the Oregon Coast by Robert Bly