At Bathtime

 for Anna
 
​She lies slung out along my legs,
Suspended over the water.
We steam in the bath,
Silent together
Among our ducks and whales and ships,
Both unsure in this new element.
 
Ten minutes pass
And then she’s off, floating on my hand,
Her body tight with concentration;
A wave scares her and I pull her up
And sit her on my knees.
Fearless now and terrible as Scylla,
She plucks up a sailor
And sticks him in her mouth.
 
It is strange to think she won’t remember
This rite of first love,
How she walked up my stomach
On her fat uncertain legs,
How I held her face to the water
While she lapped at it like a cat.
 
Lifted out of the bath, safe
In her mother’s arms,
She has out-braved the terrors of water
And looks back at me,
Among our wrecks and flotsam;
 
Suddenly, out of nowhere,
Brief and unrepeatable,
Comes her first laugh,
A golden gurgle,
As if a four-month-old could say:
The memories we will never have
Will survive in us as love.