There are dark nights
when the walls shift closer
as if listening for the slightest breath
and that is when I hear it
something deep, ancient
born of the distance
between what we lived
and what we dreamed
and who we could have been
it gently speaks my name
and I know it is you
my longing taken shape
and I know it is you
a slow deliberate haunting
reminding me there is no ending
when the heart won’t surrender
you were always the tide
and I the unwilling shore
reshaped, undone, over and over
in your moonlit gravity
now the tides are a memory
and the moon is absent
but the pull remains
you have become my haunting
for love, left incomplete
echoes louder, than any ghost
© Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 