Coming There I Thought Of Only You Poem by James McLain

I tirelessly, independently on long white sandy beach's
come the waves.
Being never yet they are, some times when breaking.
Holding hands, fingers clasped and shaking so.
Mixed with broken thunder which I measured you against.
And as I once with you,
one time across the tops a monotone
I come to hear
and ringing sounds inquired about that one you hear.

when cold I am, but warms the moving sea,
and hold the silver handle which the moon has shone.
Often there a dune it was a mound of sand, like dreams.
Which now exceeds comes often thinking, me around you
how it echoes there, just past.

As for us, a second death, I thought of you.
Before it comes you hear the sound
and where it went, It came the second time as for our wait
it rocks with age and how it always sings.