i came looking for you at the lighthouse,
where the delaware meets the atlantic,
in a dream where we were trampling the shore,
on the night you had left me in despair.
i had visited you again, in the
old victorian with the gingerbread trim,
along the old promenade where we met.
I had known you before, when the houses
were uncolored and the masts all lowered.
i had loved you before, for as many
times as you captured the sunset in your
hair and the glistening moon in your eyes.
i went looking in this place by the sea,
but found you only in my memory.