I do wonder at
the wildness of this old heart.
From the distance white-

caps reach the rocks and
reeds at my feet. Nietzsche, dear
dizzy new-old friend,

I watch you die in
the shallows, over and over
again. I’m not un-

moved. What is that on
the horizon? More of the
same? No. Beyond that.

Author: Tom D'Evelyn

Tom D'Evelyn is a private editor and writing tutor in Cranston RI and, thanks to the web, across the US and in the UK. He can be reached at D'Evelyn has a PhD in Comparative Literature from UC Berkeley. Before retiring he held positions at The Christian Science Monitor, Harvard University Press, Boston University and Brown University. He ran a literary agency for ten years, publishing books by Leonard Nathan and Arthur Quinn, among others. Before moving to Portland OR he was managing editor at Single Island Press, Portsmouth NH. He blogs at and other sites.

One thought on “Shallows”

  1. I d been thinking about these lines Tom. I like the way your observation takes us both to the foreshore and to the distance. I’ve been reminded of your pond songs. The same could happen there sometimes, with geese or the sky perhaps. But the tone then was of course very different. Your mind was less on the horizon maybe. Best wishes, John


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