There is a magic
To movement
Through the waters
Of a narrow channel
Banked by mountains
And Islands
In the gathering darkness
To movement
Through the waters
Of a narrow channel
Banked by mountains
And Islands
In the gathering darkness
But looking deeply into the past
Offers no more clarity
Than looking forward
I hold the camera
Steady as I can, buffeted
Enjoying the sound of rushing air
The very brush of existence
Like beginnings, the endings
Do not come at home
The journey is finished
When we no longer roam
There’s a point when we look back
To recall what was seen
And a little remorse
For what might have been