Tide - Poem by Hal Caufield
You are my tide.
Like a Spanish Man o War upon the waters,
I rise, fall, come and go - all by your whim.
When you are angry,
You smash and batter the timbers,
Til I, that never fears, am afraid.
I hold on to mast for dearest life,
And pray that this too shall pass.
When you are sad,
You are calm and low,
Til I am melancholy and impotent.
I walk the edge of withered planks
Staring into your waters and pray.
When you are happy,
(Oh when you are happy!)
You raise this ship and all her speed.
Til I smile and laugh, as my heart flutters
And sets the sails.
I come, I go
And all the while, I pray.
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