That morning on the beach, where did we go?
That June, before the current swept away
That thin island between the sea and bay,
Where did we walk, the risen sun still low?
Before the current swept away the land
And me along with it, where did we stride?
Next to the sea, the waxing, waning tide
Whose rhythmic jaws consumed the footprint sand?
We went nowhere that morning on the sand.
I stood and let the icy waves beat me
And hoped that they would pull me out to sea,
Far from this disappearing island.
Back then, I thought the sea would set me free,
But all it did was make a memory.