in the backwash of a wave

In The Backwash of a Wave

In the back wash of a wave, I reach for your hand.
The ocean returns, time and time again, as though to argue,
as though she is a woman that means to make a point.
You take the stance of listening, because you love fury,
or perhaps you love the ragged wisdom, the way her white hair
crashes on shoulders of sand, that hold firm with salt
or shift with the weight of her whims.
Each morning you are staring into the sea.
Your heart adrift on an island I cannot reach.
I have kicked in the sand castles up and down this beach.
I have thrown her shells back to her from where
they have stranded themselves in a tangle of weeds.
I want nothing now that she has to offer,
She will not return your thoughts to me.

Reviews

[Ed Hart]

It's not fair, is it, the way the sea can steal a mind, even a heart? But, oh, it can make us wise...

[Jibey]

This is a powerful and moving poem - of two people adrift... The use of the sea imagery works so well...