Those you love best know
where suddenly your shore curves
into unexplored landings,
and which coves
you are drawn into on certain days.
Those who are newly arrived
will always ask,
“And what lies there, beyond that
curve,
where even the sun’s light seems different,
may we sometime take a look?”
On the days that you love best,
boats come bearing untold tales,
and he and she you love best
lay their heads close to yours
on the sand’s warm,
and speak of
things that take you where
you have loved to be.
In this river
which is never the same
and never the same again,
where even the accustomed moon is
caught unawares,
each of us will
sometimes stagger and fearing
unmentionable things, ask,
“Are you still mine, are you mine,
and sometimes, mine alone?”
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