But if, after so many droning days, 
You try to imagine a quiet country 
Under the soft crush of the tide, 
You’ll be deceived. 
Leinbach discovered death does not exist. 
At the last moment, when the undertow 
Holds, and a pink foam 
Bubbles inside your throat: when you are dragged and 

In a tight spiral, you will remember 
A restless summer in Montclair, 
Sunlight dying in a room,