I wrote this poem back in 1992 when I was living in Newport Beach attending Irvine Community College. It was my first real attempt at poetry.

The receding tide knew
before I did
and it left him alone,
out of place.

Just a sigh
or a blink
would quiet my fears.
But the gnats on his hollow onyx eyes
and the single tear of blood
from his nostril
confirm it —
death has already stroked
his shiny, sand-crusted coat.

At peace now,
except in my mind
where I wish the waves
had stolen him back,
before my morning walk.