I am standing at the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white sails
and starts for the ocean.
And I stand and watch her
until at length
she hangs just where the sea and sky come down.
Then someone at my side says,
“There, she is gone.”
Gone where? Gone from my sight.
That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull and spars
as when she left my side.
Her diminished size is in me,
and not in her.
And just at the moment
when someone at my side says,
“There she is gone”,
there are other voices ready to take up the glad shout
“Here she comes!”
That is dying.
I will always love you.
| Bogey |
| 2004 |
| Jan Queijo |