When shadows from the trees are ten times longer than the trees
Across the slowly graying hair of the grass
And fallen crosses of the evening roads with cooling grit,
My words of you are ten times longer than my tongue.
When soaring seagulls linger hungrily between the fall
And rise, above the sweating fever of the waves,
Above the hissing tears of the sand lost by the stones,
My shade of you is ten times longer than your shade.
When wind is penetrating through the thinning skin of things
And mixing salt of fevers with the honey dropped
By the dissolving sun within the shadows of the trees,
Your shade of me is ten times longer than my own.