The slow drift of sea
Can sink in sorrow the very heart of man,
Such that he becomes lost and aloof
When his feet finally fall home;
Silent, he will sadly long
For the salt of that aloneness
More than for the eventual stranger
Who helped to push his bow
Into those stirring shallows many memories ago.
Coming back is so much harder than leaving to,
When one wants nor leaves to nowhere in particular.
The slow drift of sea can sink in sorrow the very heart of man...
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