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One clear night while the others slept, I climbed
the stairs to the roof of the house and under a sky
strewn with stars I gazed at the sea, at the spread of it,
the rolling crests of it raked by the wind, becoming
like bits of lace tossed in the air. I stood in the long,
whispering night, waiting for something, a sign, the approach
of a distant light, and I imagined you coming closer,
the dark waves of your hair mingling with the sea,
and the dark became desire, and desire the arriving light.
The nearness, the momentary warmth of you as I stood
on that lonely height watching the slow swells of the sea
break on the shore and turn briefly into glass and disappear...
Why did I believe you would come out of nowhere?
Why with all that the world offers would you come only because I was here?
Mark Strand's most recent book is New Selected Poems. He has received many honors and awards for his poems, including a MacArthur Fellowship, the Pulitzer Prize, and
the Bollingen Prize. In 1990, he was appointed poet laureate of the United States. He lives in New York City and teaches at Columbia University.
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