A look astern

— Lin McNulty —

I stand this chilled evening
on the stern,
look back from whence I have come
to see a wide wake
lap onto retreating shores.
Rock disintegrates into sand—my personal grit
left behind, footprint washed away.

Shores both unstable and strong
jut from where I have been.
Valleys where I have sunk
luxuriate in green.
Peaks I have conquered
shiver in white.
A seed I once planted
now stretches to the sun.

Look—
as I pass
someone waves,
someone wipes a mere tear.

Darkness now ascends.
The familiar shore
becomes more distant.
There is just time
for me to turn
toward the bow
and see the setting sun.

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