Undercurrent

You rode me like a wave that never crested.
We reached land and puttered out.
And went our separate ways.

I don't think I have another go in me.

Can we adopt waves like children?
Can we buy the tide, make love to the moon?

I am treading water, waiting for the world to move me.
It needn't be a big thing, just the natural flow of moving back to shore.