Denise Rivera

The Boat

I know
that perhaps I should not meet you at the surface
Where you wait with your luminous warmth
to pull me up on your boat
to watch the sky light up
from the light of your touch
And the dawn of your presence

But a time will be
when you will no longer be waiting
And I will no longer come up for air

For you will not need the ocean
But will cherish the sand

And I will no longer be here
For my ship will seek land

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, February 6, 2008

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