Poem Hunter
On The Beach At Fontana
(2 February 1882 – 13 January 1941 / Dublin / Ireland)

On The Beach At Fontana

Wind whines and whines the shingle,
The crazy pierstakes groan;
A senile sea numbers each single
Slimesilvered stone.

From whining wind and colder
Grey sea I wrap him warm
And touch his trembling fineboned shoulder
And boyish arm.

Around us fear, descending
Darkness of fear above
And in my heart how deep unending
Ache of love!

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Comments (1)

This is one of the great poems in English about father-son love. It also reflects, I think, a feeling men in general (even and especially Charles Dickens!) have for boys in our care, although it so rarely expressed. And, unfortunately, there are not many fathers like James Joyce. Perhaps that is changing. Let us hope so.