You think I wouldn't spare you if I could?
I am withholding nothing, I come forward
to instruct you and amend;
but how can anyone prepare for this?
For months, years, your parents
have been drifting out to sea: you have observed
the small boat, the foolish rations, how gulls
dive and squabble in their wake.
Of course we know where all such journeys end.
And yet, there comes the moment—
as if I looked away,
but I didn't look away—
suddenly, each has fallen over the bent horizon,
first one speck and then the other;
the one at the helm; the one
waving from the stern her soft scarf.