I.

Through street lamps
the Arabian Sea  
rinses a distant blue        
while from the shadows 
the rocks extrude

slowly drifting 
away, out of reach  
lovers and friends,
children and laughter

If  I am anything
of any meaning, 
look for me there,

among the shallows 
breathing soft night.

II.  

If I am anything  
of any meaning, 
look at the rain 
as it falls, flickering
against the light. 

To be truly here,
in tune with my song    
you need no pattern
or precision.

I’m inclined
at an acute angle
of eighty nine degrees

almost, but not quite
upright.

III. 

I am inclined 
at an acute angle
depending on the right 
approach on knowing 
this person I am.

My logic is mine alone, 
as are my faults, 
my strengths, my losses,
my wrongs. 

I will not give you gifts
or money, when I give, 
I give of myself,

a lone lamp trembling
in the deepest night.