by M. Douglas Hoss
I know why the sea returns to the bleached
white sand, why it rolls up and searches through
grains beneath it. I know why it never
rests but despairs, lonely within its bed.
I know why the wind is always stirring,
why it moves to sprinkle dew about the
ground. I know why it joins in league with the
sea to become an angry rolling storm.
Itís because they rue the lifetime they must
wait for your essence to become a part
of them once more, with pain and anguish being
all they find in their dire emptiness.
Who can blame the way they feel since itís how
I agonize when you have gone away.