Decades inside,
Now
go
to sleep, I'm here.
..
All right. And someone sputtered out beyond
The shoals of midnight, and out past the leer
Of flashing beacons-yellow, green, and red–
The shipwrecked passengers, a wailing host.
That desert island, should I call it home?
Who could decide when everything was lost?
I reached, clung to a spar, eyes meeting yours
As dawn came up. And whispered,
Still, we might–
Then woke. The bedside lamp relit my night.
