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The Tidal Wave (A Dream)
The report reminds you
how you have to leave town, your boats and dogs

you watch the approach
of a vast swell, more vast

than anything
anyone can remember

you rise to meet the crest
one buoyant hand holding your head

above the waves, the other
erasing the shore

of some distant land – love perhaps
the very idea of presence

estranged whitewater
on an outer reef

singular as a concrete pier
this dream provides –

as if the mind
was observatory
the body a constellation

Then the crest (un –
believably) wipes you away, and

someone riding in it
its crest peeling

and breaking away
as it would, naturally

at that change of medium –
between
sea and land
between
the real you

and the
figured distance
I make of you

though this meeting
is what we want

the way a swimmer
comes to safety

on the shoreline
of your arms

the final heat
which holds me here.