Leaving

The boat pulls away from the pier

while the houses are still sleeping.

I’m looking back at the empty windows

as though my leaving should mean something;

it doesn’t to them, but does to me.

I have fallen in love with this town, a fleeting affair;

being here has changed me,

and I know that mark is indelible.

The sky and the ocean are one; they are the vastness

into which I will throw this memory.

I will never be here again, so I allow myself watch, 

almost solemnly, as it flattens into my past.