I was thinking of poems about fathers today, because we're celebrating my dad's birthday tonight. It's by the same poet as last week, but you don't mind, do you? I didn't think you would.

With Kit, Age Seven, At the Beach

We would climb the highest dune,
from there to gaze and come down:
the ocean was performing;
we contributed our climb.

Waves leapfrogged and came
straight out of the storm.
What should our gaze mean?
Kit waited for me to decide.

Standing on such a hill,
what would you tell your child?
That was an absolute vista.
Those waves raced far, and cold.

"How far could you swim, Daddy,
in such a storm?"
"As far as was needed," I said,
and as I talked, I swam.

William Stafford

I love the idea that the father is telling his child he would swim the ocean for her--cross that absolute vista--if she needed him. I think all good fathers would.