He watches the ward clock, auditing
her slow breath: she has gone where
he cannot reach her. A flock of waders
bothering the shoreline of her sleep
fades into the soothe of warm waves
falling. Currents lift her all night,
adrift under unfamiliar stars, the hug
of darkness, a hurtling moon.
Now the tide turns. In new light
she is cast up through breakers
onto the bleak beach where he,
eyes aching from vacancy,
waits for her face to turn
towards him, to smile.
Andrew Rudd, from 'Life Lines'