Treasure Island

Is It Poetry

(1958 - / Bus-Boys And Poets, Washington D.C.)

Ebbs The Tide


How long I wait
out there to see your long face
each day and each day I come back
treading water it coming, it going out
either way, 'I know it moves quickly,
and some times, 'I grow restless, floating.

Saying that I would recognize the swells
above the water as your line is
and because of mine there below
I am trapped as well, under water
Ebbs the tide and the water does it move.




Submitted: Thursday, May 06, 2010

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