What the Tide Left Behind

Photo by Hernan Pauccara on Pexels.com

I spotted you amongst the crowd so wide,
with only a fleeting glance to spare—
I feared this spark would not abide.

A single brow I chose to flare,
slipped a napkin, number scrawled,
hoping you’d meet me somewhere.

A love so bold, I was enthralled—
our summer days felt like dragonfly dreams,
in golden heat we laughed and sprawled.

But like the tide, or sunlit beams,
our moment faded, quick to die—
like passing tourists, shifting streams.

They leave, but still, they wonder why
their hearts return when nights turn long,
recalling love beneath that sky.

In this old town lights once shone strong,
now only crashing waves remain—
a restless sea, a lonely song.

Like tossed-out notes into the wind or rain,
a napkin lost near broken glass—
our love swept out with all the pain.

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