Waves heave like the heart of long-ago summer kisses

fading, spent one-by-one on barren shores.

Ghostly silhouettes now bound in scarlet scarves forget

the play of a speckled sun on lover's running

wildly amid the spray, forget the twined shapes

wound gleefully in a cradle of plush sands.

Wrapped in freezing mist, only the bleached bones

of driftwood curve and twist, searching

for the arm that once fell loosely on a sleeping breast.

Long worn away, long mourned and softly sung,

scattered in the winter sands. All lost, all lost.