The deeper waters are darker,
The shallows a paler hue.
The sky is blackest at midnight,
White-tinged when evening is through.
You, as you drifted downwards,
Grew paler—perhaps from the cold.
The floor of the sea no light can reach,
By no heat were you consoled.
The darker waters are deeper
Than those that lap at the shore.
Your bark floated far on the outgoing tide
With no arms to steady the oars.
I, as you skimmed the waves outwards,
Looked on helplessly, standing by
On the beach where we’d laid down a blanket
To watch clouds as they passed in the sky.
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