Slowly and shrouded in fog, the ocean falls and rises…
Slowly and shrouded in fog, the ocean falls and rises and recedes again, and the water beckons to take my hand there are no stars tonight; no eyes to see me go.
if I were to love the water, to join the waves’ endless throw such storms as these would seem less grand the world could not exact such blood for prizes
but I am afraid to take its hand, I hope a star arises the fog parts, and I can wander here, by the sand.
- 14 August 1996