Jack Scott writes

On Leaving

I know I have no right to you
for you are yours
and so you leave.
I'm left in darkness loving,
my eyes upon my fading view
of your confusion taking you
away from me to something new,
forgetting who would trade his soul to
hold one glimpse, one moment true
of lovely predarting you.

After Fuseli -Andrew Cranston

Jack Scott writes

The Cry of Clams 

He who hears the cry 
of clams within the mud 
hears too well. 

He who hears the cry 
of buried clams in pain  
must cry alone 
and know he cries alone. 

He who hears the cry 
of lonely, drowning things  
must fear 
and drown in fear alone. 

He who hears the cry 
of things buried in agony 
hears hell; 
thank god he hears alone.

Clam Beach at Orick --  Gretchen Hancock