Sources

Watch the skyline as it blurs 
A little greyer 
Over a sea of anything 
Like a blue-green road 
To whatever we guess will be 

Bare my whitened chest to icy air 
And shut my straining eyes, to dare, 
Allow the hours to slowly lift the fragments 
Of my resonating tissues 
Carry them slow into the dawn 
Off and away from their point 
And state of harmonious convergence 
Watch the salmon in their suicidal race against the river's will 
See the gull against the tidal winds, embracing it 

And living still.