I sit on the rocks by the waves
The raw waves
The wild black rocks
The islanders say be careful
The black rocks can be slippery
And if you slip . . .
I sit on the black rocks
Near the clamor of waves
They rise up like mountains
Menacing
And collapse into white chaos
Of foam
Surging a little closer each time
I talk to the waves
And I talk to the rocks
I tell them I love them
This is a good place to talk
With the island behind me
The black rocks do not side
With island or sea
I say things I have said before
And I say things
That are just between me and the sea
And if tears come
That is because
I have slipped into grief
But the rocks will not betray me
The sea will not betray me
They know that
Everything makes sense here
And that soon
I will slip away
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