Retrospective

 

Poetry       Essays       Letters

Sandy Lyne

 

The Deer of the Sea

for P—

Walking on the beach one day, you pointed.
Dolphins, you said, — the deer of the sea;
so like you to see things so tenderly,
to find words like these.
Love— so hard for us to give it wings,
too many shadows of the past, fears
that would not move. Love— without desire;
an unplayed piano, an unused voice.
In the mountains one day, we stopped our car.
Look, you said, deer— the dolphins of the woods,
making us again, at the same time, both laugh and cry.

 

© The Estate of Sandford Lyne

 

            

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