I walk along a melancholy strand,
Hearing music played too far
To be meant for me.
Drifting down the beach,
Distorted by erratic wind,
It faintly pulled,
Like the withdrawing tide
Pulls flotsam from the shore.
Here is where you haunt me.
The hiss of the returning waves
Whisper your name,
The cry of the gulls call,
But you will never answer.
Your image is torn by breeze and spray
Fleeing up the sand,
Hiding in the hollow dunes.
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