At Daybreak
I had a dream and I awoke with it—
Poor little thing that I had not unclasped
After the kiss good-by.
And at the surface how it gasped—
This thing that I had loved in the unlit
Depth of the drowsy sea….
Ah me!
This thing with which I drifted toward the sky.
Driftwood upon a wave—
Senseless the motion that it gave.