Isaak

Poem for my grandson Isaak (nearly five years old)
written when sailing in Greek waters
Sitting on our sailboat, moored alongside in a small Greek bay
north coast of the Gulf of Corinth
in the bright sunlight
I wish you were here beside me; what would we talk about?
It’s green around me, not like the desert where you live;
(You tell me this when we phone on skype: 
“Granny, it’s very hot here where I live, it’s a desert”.)
We would lean over the side of the boat
and watch the tiny fish swarming through the clear sea
and tell each other what was on the sandy bottom
(seeming so near, the sea so clear):
a drowned white rowing boat,
coils of black rubber tubing, fishing nets rolled into bundles,
curious undefinable shapes.
You would begin, “You know, Granny...” and tell me of your observations.
I think you would like it here.
We could go swimming -- keeping a wary eye out for jelly-fish and sea urchins --
We would kick our feet and make foam, rainbows sparkling in the sunlight,
we would splash and laugh,
and I would see the droplets trembling on your eyelashes.
Afterwards we could find a shop selling hot pizza -- always your favourite!
We could invent wild stories, about friendly dragons, and dinosaurs
or gloomy giants who grew kind-hearted...
We could share worlds, and words
and the wide bright silence of the sea.

Porto Germeno 1 June 2012