Somewhere
a fox startles a flock of gulls
from a sheltering cove.
They take wing and are blown back

by a pitiless wind -
a wind that knows but one direction now.

Somewhere
a log, wet and dark,
finds a ridge of sand and catches,
rocking back and forth until the tide lets go.

Somewhere
light that has forsaken its source
falls naked on the seam
of sea and shore. Kneeling,

he throws off his hope, an empty cloak
that once may have belonged to another
who no one now remembers
stepping into the waves.