My dear gone friend
Great lover of that sea into which you slowly slipped
In ashen remains of your once-laughing frame.
At first, a solitary bird.
A flock soon wheeled around that billowing plume
Spreading beneath the circle of boards and bards
Gathered on furl and fall of Louttit Bay.
We were all there for your return to mother-water.
But that stark night, you laboured long alone
Then fell full still.
Your elements now curl through cold currents
And you are well-gone, long-gone beyond containment.
The birds of the air swooped into the sea that day.
They carried you to your new home.