Encyclical

West of here the world ends.
As it does everywhere, sooner or later.
At least here it's picturesque.
The rowers stroke for sunset and know
its hopeless- though exhaustion's
an end in itself, and so is getting wet;
moisture makes us hopeful,
in touch with our insides
and the possibility of touching others,
before we grow old and dark
and can't be bothered to forget.