LOVE POEM #1                                          February, 1979

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I had a lover who moved like the ocean over me.

And like the sea, he couldn't decide to stay or go.

So he, like the waters, did both, all day every day.

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I burn with patience, waiting for his return.

He moves in with a torrent upon me and I turn away.

I am the moon, exerting a pull I do not understand.

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One night we grew close,

me, the sharp shining moon,

and he, the warm willowy waters.

Intertwined, we told each it other it was hopeless.

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But he kept rolling over me, even the dark side,

and I kept lighting his waters,

until one day he flowed out to the open ocean where

there was only the expanse, and only the moon could be seen in the sky:

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His vast open waters, grabbing, clinging to the shore,

and my rim of light upon those waters.