At the close of this day we
have the bright idea of taking
him in the rowboat out on the
lake to view the moon rising, but
a few strokes from the dock he
fights his way out of his life
jacket for all his mother, frenzied
in the stern, can do, and lunges
for the oars — not one big oar
with two little hands, but
both, the way Daddy does, and
there we are, splashing up a storm
as the moon glides up to look:
little boy alive in the big world.