Wave Quest

Pacific waves of childhood memory
Are broken over me and made more slight
Since I have sought them as a man and see
That they are smaller in my full-grown sight.
The water is yet cold and shares a sting
With salted thoughts that haven’t changed too much–
A certain kind of salty, differing
Namelessly from Atlantic such and such–
But thunderous and tumble-down the waves
Were not. It could be that I missed the swell;
It could be I’ve become so big and brave;
It could be memory can never tell
The facts. For now I guess I will prefer
The truth which those remembered waves confer.

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