For BJ

Upon the flurried tide with cogent eyes transfixed in wonder I see him move, not with grace but with style. Not as shore grass graciously sweeps to the sea but more like a sea lion with the drive of intent toward the prey he moves from one place to the next. Then stopping to raise his hands as if to say “I am the Walrus”, he looks for approval and beams at its recognition. In that tide he strikes the match igniting my heart. He is my grandson, my hero, my love’s intent unrestrained.