Would you stand where the sea
meets the night sky;
among the sands of waning
centuries,
and face an onyx curtain while
oblivion laps at your soles?
Where is but the moon to tell
where the cresting waves break free
of a dimly speckled sky?
Look you sleepless soul,
and see the smallest flicker on the
hidden horizon;
perhaps the kindly Fisherman
has set alight his lantern, but
can you trust your imagination?
Swim.