View from Deck

Don’t you dare try to tell us
How the tale will end. It won’t.

Those who tell the tales will end,
One by one and all at once.

When they’re gone, the tales will end
The way all things reach their ends

In the midst of things, as waves
In seas of waves end in waves.

But the tale, made out of waves
That rise from waves and then sink

In waves, like the fact of waves,
Lacks ends. You will, but it can’t.