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.