We met with you at sunset.
You paddle cut through the bay.
I loved your white dress,
Refinement dreams fall out of love.
It was strangely silent meeting.
Leading the way - on a sand spit
Lit up the evening candles.
Someone thought of pale beauty.
approximately, encounters, combustions -
Does not accept the azure calm…
We have met, evening mist,
Where the shore rippled lake.
neither anguish, neither love, any resentment,
All faded, gone, departed…
white mill, voice requiem
And your golden oar.
13 May 1902
