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 Losing Track by Denise Levertov 
						Long after you have swung backaway from me
 I think you are still with me:
 
 you come in close to the shore
 on the tide
 and nudge me awake the way
 
 a boat adrift nudges the pier:
 am I a pier
 half-in half-out of the water?
 
 and in the pleasure of that communion
 I lose track,
 the moon I watch goes down, the
 
 tide swings you away before
 I know I'm
 alone again long since,
 
 mud sucking at gray and black
 timbers of me,
 a light growth of green dreams drying.
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