Row

Row

Row true into the descending fog
the shore fades from view

but is still there

ahead

set course and row
into the gloom

Rest if you must, father,
in the front of the boat
a true course easier
one rowing alone than two.

It was you
who brought us to sight
of shore, near, in the fading light.

I'll take it from here.

and so I row
while my father sleeps

the sky will clear
with the dawn
the fog, dripping dew

~~ Phil Specht