I watched the morning sun that untouched day
Light up a vast and dark and distant form.
I sought the man the wind and waves
My shelter was the trees and leaves; my fears
The lake, the ground, the cold, the emptiness.
And even though I know I won’t die here
The perfect place would be the
I’m trying not to count between the
Wind howls “Repent!” with its resounding crash
And let the storm take me some place unknown.