I mingle sometimes
and sometimes subside also
lost too, and wave too
sometimes; but here and there
there and then
washed up on shore, I am
glancing confusedly around, and I am
pecked and poked and
picked and tossed and turned roundround

and then, then
blue comes
and within it, glittery dust
and as I am slowly buried alright
and as I am alright almost
a tiding comes
from winds’ thick gossips
of a tiding bog
that will claim me again
and then falls, and pulls and it claims me, yes

and so the nights drip down on dawn
and I mingle, mingle almost, sometimes