We steamed along the coastline,
From the shore
A dot of a yacht.
In turn, the land for me
Danced back and forth.
Cliffs dipped,
Headlands bowed,
A beach was sheathed,
A blade of sable light.
Gently, the land stood back,
Visual murmurs of its presence
Shadows in a November dusk:
Last glimpses of earth
Before the great open water.
Goodbye, I thought,
Uncertain, detaching
And turned.
I was under way.
14th July 2021 – after Biscay, November 1982.
willawdry 
One feels the sense of solitary on the deck, broken light upon the water, heading West on a great adventure. A deftly captured departure. Beautiful brush-strokes.
LikeLiked by 1 person