It wasn’t the tides ebbing towards you,
nor the winds whistling farewells like gusts foreshadowing a storm,
it was more of the sun shining through the clouds
that made me think that despite this horrid weather
seagulls could still fly, even after you sailed into new lands.
But how great are the lands in which you now stand?
Does the pine’s foliage roof your body like my palms?
Can you feel the ice drying your skin?
or do you miss the sand kissing your spine?
It wasn’t the crabs that no longer clenched to rocks
nor the dolphins in the sea swimming after you,
It was more of the lighthouse in the shore
that illuminated my waves into believing that someday
the heat of our yesterday’s would bring you back ashore.