I am always thinking of you.
At dusk you materialize
a thousand fireflies in a lush forest.
You interrupt my thoughts and there
is nothing I can do,
even Buddha has failed me.
I am out here in the dusk
where I might find you.
Spare a light that I may press it against
the sky or a falling star to coax you
where the tide bends the sea oats.
The dunes are washed away
like stacks of sponge cake.
Waves are black as sea lions
topped with froth.
When you are passing lift a glass,
a flicker of silvery starlight.