Poetry

Stretches

Knute Skinner

I approach the end of the way,

which leads, as the other ways did,

to a difficult gate.

And beyond that a short stretch 

of cluttered sand.

And beyond that an endless stretch

of receding sea.

 

The sign on the gate reminds me

of the signs I have left behind.

I study the sign.

Then I look on the stretching sand

and beyond that the endless stretch

of receding sea.

Then I push open the gate.