Stop!

an ocean with all kinds of birds flying around its head

my hand on the surface, a line, where i float

it looks like my father, it does.

but it does not speak to me at all.

the line of the sand the place where the line

has two colors, the waves wash in

they go out

all the time like they do

who do you think they go to

who is it that gets all of those waves

at the line

the waves make the line

i wish you were here with me this far

and the waves just a little more

there

, in the morning

on a cold winter night

the line of the sand

who would you be if you walked up all of those waves

who would you be if the weather would just warm

i wish this weather was more

for you

i wish you would make it warmer like i do.