November 5, 2007
So time is never ending onward
Set with the winds it has to take,
With bow and shrouded future forward
And all of history in her wake.
The path of hers and mine must meet
And follow for a little ways
Till final port of call is reached
I disembark at end of days.
If this is all there is, request,
Which deeds will then outlast?
Complaining of the seasickness
Or rigging up the mast?

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