David DeSantis

(01/29/85 / Utica, NY)

**A Beach, Lake, and Owl

Sun soaked revelations
on a patio deck.

I had long forgotten
the simple joys
Of returning to origin.

In its bosom,
the well worn comfort
Of familiarity,
combined with the
clear remembrance
Of lake breeze air.

Every milestone,
And accomplishment,
All seen by the unending tide
Of water in motion.

From the eyes of my window:

the first breath of my brother
and the last sight of my cousin.

The first taste of a woman
and my last meeting with her.

All trials,
And friendships
Have come, gone
and began again

Lonely winter nights,
The ferocity of the wind off the beach
almost too much to bear.
Nowhere to go,
Except the solace of a guitar,
You taught yourself well back then.

My first car,
Driving around in circles,
a “summer town” deserted in the winter,
And a father
Eager to pass this rite to his son.

Cracks in a marriage,
like holes in a wall,
and a lonely teenager hoping for the best.

My first taste of addiction.
Parents out of town,
I wanted to be the “cool kid”.
A party remembered,
The stench of cigarettes,

All within these walls.

Clear hot air.
I lay back
And gaze deeply
Into the trunk,
of the tree,
I have seen all
My life.

My great aunt used to tell me
that on the branches,
Of this particular tree
Sits a wise old owl.
He will watch over you
During this life.

To a child
An owl shaped branch,
Can give breath quite easily.
Yet I never truly understood
Her message.

That branch is long since gone,
As is she.
And at times when I need her wisdom
I remember the owl.

Today it is clear to me.

Just as the roots
Of a tree anchor
mighty oak,
My home
Anchors me.

I lay back
In my chair.
Feet up,

I am home,

Rooted once again.

Copyright (c) David DeSantis

Submitted: Thursday, May 08, 2008
Edited: Sunday, February 22, 2009

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  • Rookie - 29 Points Robert Howard (5/29/2008 1:03:00 PM)

    What a fabulous poem. I passes effortlessly through time and connects the particular to the universal. Great command of image and rhythmic flow. It's joining my favorites list. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 29 Points Coach Roth (5/16/2008 12:50:00 AM)

    A winding journey through your life both real and metaphorical...good write...Coach (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 196 Points Loyd C. Taylor, Sr. (5/12/2008 4:31:00 AM)

    Hello DAvid. A delight poem of memory of some good times and wisdom. I play the guitar as well, self taught. Thanks, LC Taylor (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 196 Points R H (5/10/2008 3:34:00 PM)

    This is a truly wonderful piece of relection David, the clarity of thought takes the reader deep into the heart of the poet as an array of visual milestones are brought to the fore like the 'unending tide of water in motion' you describe. An ebb and flow of firsts and lasts, things that have come and gone and 'began again'...whilst all the while grounding your very existance. A mature and revealing composition with an almost meditative feel. Love it. j x (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 52 Points Paul Butters (5/10/2008 2:30:00 PM)

    Great poem. One of my favourites. Plenty to ponder, with another glass of wine! Cheers. Paul. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 52 Points Alison Cassidy (5/9/2008 3:14:00 AM)

    David, you have such poetic maturity for your age - this poem might well have been written by someone in their autumn years, not one still savoring the delights of their twenties. Your story is a series of snapshots, as if the reader were flicking through the pages of your family album. The images are clear and precise and there is a warmth in the telling which is most compelling. A most attractive poem. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 52 Points Yuri Duraan (5/8/2008 2:14:00 PM)

    Absolutely stunning, David... no memory is ever lost, whether it be good or bad and all of them shape who we have become... I think your aunt would be mighty proud today.... Yuri* (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 52 Points Abha Sharma (5/8/2008 12:27:00 PM)

    the memories of childhood...the wisdom showered by the elders..all is recalled time to time, they are engraved in us and help in our survival...good expression...
    **Abha** (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 0 Points Janice Windle (5/8/2008 12:18:00 PM)

    Hard to say anything new about this poem - you have a clear voice, and it's a lovely, fresh, imaginative statement that reminds older people like me that nostalgia doesn't belong just to us - time is moving on for the young as well. And you capture that feeling of transition between home and childhood and independence, too - now I remember it like yesterday, having read you reverie on it. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 0 Points ~ Jon London ~ (5/8/2008 11:37:00 AM)

    Stunningly beautiful my friend, such amazing visual imagery, soft textures all wrapped up in powerful write...Your work is of genius, do you do poetry at Mensa?

    Fabulous piece.10/10

    best wishes
    Jon (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 1 Points Original Unknown Girl (5/8/2008 10:11:00 AM)

    Wow, your work just gets better and better! Absolutely love this. Has a Mark Twain feel to it (to me anyway) Great work David. HG: -) xx (Report) Reply

Read all 14 comments »

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