Stop!
an ocean with all kinds of birds flying around its head
my hand on the surface, a line, where i float
it looks like my father, it does.

but it does not speak to me at all.

the line of the sand the place where the line
has two colors, the waves wash in
they go out

all the time like they do

who do you think they go to
who is it that gets all of those waves

at the line
the waves make the line
i wish you were here with me this far
and the waves just a little more
there
, in the morning

on a cold winter night
the line of the sand
who would you be if you walked up all of those waves
who would you be if the weather would just warm
i wish this weather was more
for you

i wish you would make it warmer like i do.