At Night

I swim towards you,
the boat has sunk, it lies

on the bottom of a shallow
lake. So I swim, one arm after

the other through dark
water. You stand on the shore,

with a white towel, your feet,
bare, embedded in sand.

You wave softly in the twilight.
I can see the green of your

eyes, the blonde of your hair
catching the last of sunlight.

Your shoulders are set in my
direction. I move slowly,

but with persistence. I know
it is only the ghost of you.

The fading memory of who
I think you were, but it keeps

me afloat, gets me to shore
and through the restless night.