A Wave

He dreams of her when the doves are sleeping
the hour between early mourning and dawn,
wakes as if she has been there, sees her
as the whole beautiful earth, all along.

Suspended in space like a ghost before him
she slips out of the body of commitments,
becomes ritual so he can speak
honestly, how he continues to miss her.

She wonders why sleep eludes the body,
feels the weight in the mattress, a heartbeat
at her side every night they arrive
together as if never apart, he asks her

why didn't you wait for me? In the irises
of her eyes he can see her reply--
I waited as long as I could. Her voice recedes
like a wave a wave, the ocean saying goodbye.