“there is a pressing weight in my chest, 

the breath caught in the tightening breast, 

a must, a need, certainty of the leaving, 

dust blows beyond, beyond the dunes’ heaving, 

with men’s hearts, flurries of gallant starts, 

their whispers, the ripples that yet remain, 

forever flowing freely from wistful hearts,

to seas bedded by bounties’ salted refrain.”