Journey to No

We walked the dunes under a pale September moon
and marveled at nature’s tenacity.
Reeds and grass
rooted on shifting morass
nourished by wet green air---
trees grounded only on wind.
We kissed on the shell of a sycamore
who had given up the fight then

stumbled to the beach where
you picked up a single stone
and cast it without thought to the sea.
I wondered at the aeons
that had gone into his journey
I wondered at history---
at his story and ours.
Later you picked a daisy,
looked into my eyes
and smiled.

I almost said yes.