we walked the beach in the dark.
    I feel like I’ve walked all day in light
    that’s been retreating like the end
    of a silent movie, shrinking to a pin spot
    and then disappearing into the certain
    defeat of the black screen.

    Sometimes I imagine a hand reaching out
    of the shrinking circle, halting the darkness.
    Then a second hand, and a third break away
    the sides of the circle, as though it were
    a thin facade and the light floods in
    like a rain-swollen river.

    Most of the time, however there are no
    such hands; the light disappears and
    the darkness remains. I’m left standing
    as we were tonight, under a moonless sky,
    with only your hand to hold,the consequence
    of the love you’ve chosen to give.

    Just before we turned for home you said,
    “Say some love words — you’re the writer.”
    I had no words. All I could do was pull you close
    and hold you, the dark hanging heavy
    as humidity and the shallow waves of low tide
    keeping rhythm with the night,

    marking time till daybreak.



    1. Without saying so, you make us slow down and take a look. And with each poem, our lives are richer. Thank you for the blessing that you are to us.

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