|
On the beach I limped and held your weary hand |
|
That windy day we slept well past noon |
|
Too busy counting every grain of sand |
|
To even have a ghost of a clue |
|
I played in the waves like a five-year-old child |
|
Timing my jumps with the rolling tide |
|
I never looked to see you on the shore |
|
Planning your escape and drying your eyes |
|
Had you known for a week, a month, or a year |
|
Had you been trying in vain to let me know |
|
Somehow I never noticed your tears |
|
And sitting there smiling I watched you go |
|
I laid on back, listening to the waves |
|
Humming a song that you never knew |
|
The water wet your feet |
|
As you crossed through the sand |
|
And whispered that you'd be back soon |
|
I never thought to ask you when |
|
Blind to the sorrow you were laying to rest |
|
I never thought to tell you to jump back in |
|
And sitting there smiling I watched you go |