Sea Poem 1956

From the author’s early compilation; published in the 2026 edition of Selected Poems of David W. Canafax, this version reflects the poem's original structure.

October's wave

flees by the gull

and into the sand,

its echo heard

years ago

when we were children

on some fatherless

seacoast;

That day

was a cumulus sky;

the clouds are gone.

now so am I.

We plied the trails

on the loamy cliffs,

hovered over

wavering grass far below.

There were caves

and driftwood

and quicksand,

all confused in the fog,

lost but for

the gaw of the gulls.

Dutiful children,

they returned at dusk

to hot meals

and sweaters,

but I

never went back.

A later version of this poem was discovered among David’s papers and is presented here to show how he often returned to his work, occasionally revising and reshaping it over the years.

Sea Poem 1956

October waves

flee by the gull

go on and on into the sand,

their booming echoes we heard

so many years ago when we were children on a fatherless seacoast

The days were sheltered

with a great cumulous sky;

the clouds are gone now,

so am I

We harried the trails

over the loamy cliffs

and hovered over grasses

wavering far below;

there were caves and driftwood

and quicksand---all confused

in the deep sea fog,

and we were lost

but for the gaw of the gulls

Dutiful children---

they returned at dusk

to hot suppers and sweaters

but I…

I never went back

David often returned to his poems across decades, sometimes revising and reshaping them as his perspective deepened, and sometimes simply affirming that a piece had endured unchanged. Both versions of “Sea Poem 1956” are presented here to reveal the arc of his artistic voice.