No One Has Need of Knowing, Then

                                                  No one has need of knowing, then,

                                                        of when and where and why,

                                                        of summers spent in solitude

                                                              gazing toward the sky,

                                                         of windswept months spent

                                                                 sifting over letters

                                                                       in the sand,

                                                                      blown softly

                                                                     and so gently

                                                                  to another form,

                                                               the foam of oceans

                                                                     blown across,

                                                            the spirit of the waves,

                                                         caress the ache of longing

                                                    and bring knowing to the grave.

                                                                                              s.k. lindeman