• Chris Ribaudo

Rising and Falling

Rising and falling

across the slab of brown, salty muck

is the tide.

Rising, the liquid hunger

eats the land, sand, mud, rocks

the sea grass and all the kelp in the bay.

It seems it can’t get enough

until the greed recedes.

Rising and falling

my love lives between desire and indifference.

Yet your love surrounds me,

like conical lines on Morro Rock

deep and sure

unmoved by selfishness

by fickle waves of passion

or endlessly shifting tides.

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I am going to Tarrytown today visit its rolling greens and snow-white steeples to see an old friend from South Hampton. When classmates at the university it was always Hamptons in summer and Tarrytown

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