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.