Silly, how we wait for things, isn't it?
The clock to ring, the light to change,
For the seasons - they aren't wating
For us - the sea, and all the great
Movements of the stars.
I waited for you, hoping, and like the wave
You washed over me, cool and sharp,
Spreading, then drawing back again.
Watch the shore, sometime, how
The edges of the wave-run leave
A bit of foam here, then there, then
Wipe it all away again, but still
Leave a bit here...
The foam of you is drying on my thighs,
And a bit of your brown algae clings
To my feet. If I wait long enough
The tide will return. Perhaps it will
Carry me out, floating, in the moonlight,
While on the shore my footprints
Will fill...and fall...and fade.