His tide has receded from me...
I am kelp dried in the scorching sun.
Must I simply wait for the moon
to bring him surging back to me?
How long must I wait?
How long would he stay?
Will he ever come again?
Maybe some other current
will sweep me along in the meantime?

I am bracken, I am driftwood.
I am carrion, I am insect,
fish, crustacean, mammal,
I am drying in the sun...
Waiting to be washed clean
of fear, doubt, worry, sorrow.
Longing for a kind word,
the gentle whisper of a lover's song
lapping in the waves of this lonely sea.

I am alone, staring into a dirty puddle.
I am begger, urchin, stray.
I am the needy, the poor,
the worthless parasite.
I am left wanting, alone and hurt.