Seaside Séance

I wander to the river’s edge
While the current is cold as graves,
Where the wind pulls loose my hair,
There I invoke his name in staves,
I wait for him to float to me
Upon the choppy waves

I search the tidal skyline
For his toes upon the sea
For his ghostly apparition
To emerge heroically
But be he ghost or demon
The soul I adored so utterly

Will never return to me.