Tell me little wave,
who are you when the shoreline has receded
when the gaze of hunters no longer pierces your soul
when the tide no longer names you and the wind no longer cares
who are you when the ripples go still
when the pond is empty and the mask is uneeded
do you still stand tall when no one is there to see it
or do your shoulders sink beneath the quiet
do your hands still reach for the f...
