I came across an old scrapbook of mine at the back of the cupboard last night and in it was a poem I had copied in 1993 by my favourite poet Norman McCaig. I thought I would share it with you -
"Small boy" by Norman MacCaig from Collected Poems (Random House).
"He picked up a pebble and threw it into the sea.
And another, and another. He couldn't stop.
He wasn't trying to fill the sea. He wasn't trying to empty the beach.
He was just throwing away,nothing else but.
Like a kitten playing he was practicing for the future
when there'll be so many things he'll want to throw away
if only his fingers will unclench and let them go"
And another, and another. He couldn't stop.
He wasn't trying to fill the sea. He wasn't trying to empty the beach.
He was just throwing away,nothing else but.
Like a kitten playing he was practicing for the future
when there'll be so many things he'll want to throw away
if only his fingers will unclench and let them go"
If only we could throw away our regrets and hurt like the pebbles from a beach...
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