My daughter and her father
Shall together take the sights
Of old Tasmania
To set a line and catch each other
For old time’s sake and new
Before she makes another world
And mine before her takes its cue.

Precious days and nights
In pleasant contemplation
Of life’s fruit distilled
In but a moment of such presence
And such loss
Scattered in the straights
That we have crossed
As dust upon the waters of content
Yet still querying what it means
And what it meant
And whether it is cause for joy
Or sad lament.

Who knows? Who knows?
She and I shall smell a rose
Drink coffee and propose
A toast
Somewhere between
Cradle Mountain and the coast….