THINKING OF MY LAST TRIP TO THE KEYS ALMOST ONE YEAR LATER

and the moon stuck with us a full half the day     three-quarters hanging high and quiet to the west a translucent whisper not enough for even a reflection on the oceanside glass     I stood on the bow and let go     closed my eyes and gave myself to the unknowable back and forth of the water the slight lap against the skiff occasional bird call     the breeze and rising sun at my back