The summer we spent at the beach
left us far from where we started.
You were content to spend your days,
nights, in quiet somnambulism.
Spending endless days without
waking or caring or seeing the
turbulent waves slowly pulling
the sand from under our feet.
While I spent my days walking the dunes
looking for driftwood and shells,
sweet pea flowers and scrub pines.
The days were cool and the seagulls
called their warning.
They should have been whispering
my name, that and goodbye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The sifting sands beneath our feet-how sublime and subtle the undulating current of your words, the sense of growing loss, depiction of the outward serenity and the inward displacement of a relationship ending....and of the unconsciousness of it all, at the time. I feel sad now thinking of how hard it was, for you, to bear this....and I know. P