One starry evening while the others rested, I climbed
the stairs to the top of the house and under a sky
strewn with stars I looked at the ocean, at its spread,
its moving peaks raked by the breeze, getting to be
like bits of trim hurled noticeable all around. I remained in the long,
murmuring night, hanging tight for something, a sign, the methodology
of a removed light, and I envisioned you coming nearer,
the dim floods of your hair blending with the ocean,
what's more, the dim progressed toward becoming want, and want the showing up light.
The proximity, the transient warmth of you as I stood
on that desolate stature watching the moderate swells of the ocean
break on the shore and transform quickly into glass and vanish…
For what reason did I trust you would appear suddenly? Why with all
that the world offers would you come simply because I was here?
