You have receded to a calm sea
with the tide out, blue, quiet,
unrippled to the horizon
where water meets air
and the colour merges pink
blue, pale, water-coloured -

those quiet days when the
seagulls call and the cliff
grass gently blows - and
nothing else is
except grass, and rock,
and air -

but I miss you like a 
waterfall, like a torrent,
with the noise deafening the
ears and the water churning
fast and deep -

like a hurricane blowing down
houses and land, eating
the earth and tossing
trees into height and air -

you are not here, I am not
there, in your place of
change, of transformation
on the other side I cannot
touch, cannot reach, and

all the days in-between
exist like a dream

nothing else is

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