as the light fades
at the full tide of memory
the bay fills with tears
estuarine they call it
this meeting of the flow of the land
against the inflow of the ocean
dylan
he had been and seen both sides
of the sea’s retrograde regrets
of the high tide of hopes
the low tide of the end of saying
just this and no more
cold tears
on an early summer evening
as the light fades
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