The End It comes for us all. The end of childhood. The end of adolescence. The end of each stage of life. The End. It waits like a bump in the road Inevitable You might hit it fast Or slow But you will hit it. There is no avoiding it. The End We can see where we were Where we are Never very clearly Where we will be Sometimes not at all The future is cloudy And then we reach The End Good people Bad people All people Even Wannaskan Almanac writers Reach that point The December 31, 2026 A date with density Or destiny The End
THIRD MOVEMENT REMEMBERING SONG EIGHTEEN A VOICE BETWEEN II Waking to dark Waking to sound of boom thudding across from starboard to port I scramble on deck under noon-high moon, check the wind’s shift, re-rig and secure, then settle back panting behind the sail. I am alone, yet somehow not. Are those blue arches cresting starboard of me? or only moon-waves curling their tails? or shadows cast from my own bright sails? It’s nothing, I think, yet re-membering green I look to port searching for something unseen Nothing to port, starboard or ahead one-hundred-eighty degrees of moon upon sea But asudden ...