Say you remember—even if all that stays
Is no more lasting than the silver foil
Of quarter moon, or the west wind's toil
Upon the deep, among the darkening waves.
Say you remember.
Say you remember—candle that burned so bright,
Casting our shapes against the winding stair;
Casement thrown open, letting a rush of air
Prolong the surge from far within the night.
Say you remember.
Say you remember—morning, with gulls crying,
The yellow sand swept clean, and not a sign
That we came that way. No trace left behind
By the incoming waves. And the wind sighing.
Say you remember.
First published in The New Formalist.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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