Empathy
With those who seek a satisfying simplicity,
with those who look into the dark sea and see nothing
because they fear the dark sea’s mouth
and the sea’s wash on the weathered boards,
with those who have lived too long or not long enough,
have walked far but as far only as the wet wood,
with those who long for the star’s shaking lustre
trembling in the hands of the high trees,
and those calling out in the sweat of sleep
through the winding horns of dreams
to the moon and the sea and the night,
I grieve.