Sands

Looking out over the slate face of the sea

I watch the tide fill with water the footsteps you made

Roll over where you stood sketching with a finger in the sand


The sea has cleaned you away

Is curled up on the shore and

Only the ground-swell recalls

An old sorrowful hunger.


When the sun has bled in the sky

I will watch the sea's

                slate face pucker and

Draw away

Like the woman did.

Robert James Berry