Here again I sit. I remember what I had: fullness in both hands.
Here again I sleep, fearful, aching, missing the damp coat.
Were you only a dream of heaven that fell as precipitation to a cottoned mouth?
Or, were you real?
Yet now there is no water to envelope me; I go to sleep unaided.
I fear to wake without the waves lapping over me;
I fear the moon to pilfer my spring tide forever,
To steal it greedily and never return it to me.
So little do I get to hold it; so little do I get to feed in its life
The moon should share; it is cruel
It forgets me and buries me beneath the weight of desiccated air
I must hold my breath.
Tide, why must you always run away from me
When at last I have caught up with you?
Tide, you have left me; I am without you again;
Your warmth is quickly dripping off me,
Feeding the greedy sand beneath.
You are running out to sea,
You have carried away my very heart and soul with you.
Where shall I find you again? Shall you this time stay away so long that I forget you?
Is there ever a day you will divorce the moon’s leash–
Will you not return in a full spring tide, nevermore to leave?