Long after you have swung back away from me

    I think you are still with me：

    you come in close to the shore on the tide

    and nudge me awake the way

    a boat adrift nudges the pier：

    am I a pier half-in half-out of the water？

    and in the pleasure of that communion

    I lose track，the moon I watch goes down，

    the tide swings you away before

    I know I'm alone again long since，

    mud sucking at gray and black timbers of me，

    a light growth of green dreams drying.