Fiddler's Farewell/Deep Sea Fishing
Deep Sea Fishing
Sometimes I cast my longing like a line,Watch it sink deep and deeper in the blueImmoderate waters that are dreams of you,Flooding the parched land that is sleep of mine.Impassively I float the pale hours through,With quiet eyes upon the quivering twine,Aware of lurking shapes that give no signOf rising, though they move as fishes do.
Your hands, your hands, a thousand multiplied,Cool, slim, and wary, darting to and fro,For every touch of yours I knew, a hand!Then breaks the line along the failing tide,I lean—to drown among them as they go—Knowing I may not drown on waking sand!