A Horizon is just beyond the grasp
Of the great reach of my fish-net, I can
Near see the sun that kissed the end of sky
And settles within its golden embrace.
Northern winds grapple my silent locks of
Hair, and it smells of thyme and salt. The sun
Is mere a glow of hope, she now beckons
Me with her love and light over the mist.
Pale wings lift my shoulders to meet the sun,
I feel the wax begin to melt and drip.
As the ocean does swell forever near,
The Horizon is ever growing far.
The waves extend their outstretch’d arms in
Swirling tides to greet my fall, a final time.