How That Sunday Ended Poem by RIC BASTASA

the waves are bigger than my dreams
i sit on the sandy shore waiting

you come like a shadow of an afternoon Sunday
broad and firm and strong as you claim yourself
in a name carved in stone

it is late and i am weak

you run to the sea and plunge yourself
you wave your hand before that

i am looking at the horizon

and then the sunset completes itself
with your silence
in that single splash

i think it is horrible but on the other hand
it is divine

i cannot remember how that Sunday ends
i will again say it ends with the splash and then the edifying silence

let me stop and think awhile, a moment of silence

how can i tell you that there is this deleted version of the story
in trembling i arrive home and then i scream