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<title>frederickmorgan.com: poems: The One Abiding</title>
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<div class="content"><span class="topnavlink"> <a href="index.html">home</a> | <a href="about.html">about frederick morgan</a> | <a href="pubindex.html">publications</a> | <a href="poemsindex.html">poems</a> | <a href="press.html">press</a> </span></div>
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<span class="title">The One Abiding</span>, 2003<p>
<a href="pub_theoneabiding.html">Click here</a> to learn more about this book and how to purchase it.<p>
<hr align="left" width="50%"><br>
<strong>The Parting</strong><p>
I stood in the pine wood waiting for my friend<br>
by the path along the water—<br>
night falling, one last lobster boat<br>
throbbing in from the bay.<br>
I wished to say farewell, <em>bonne chance!</em><br>
I did not expect to see this man again.<p>
"It's the end, I guess," he said, "but first<br>
I'm glad we can share such a moment.<br>
You've loved this place for years, quite as much as I<br>
and must surely know what I'm feeling<br>
now that my time has come to leave it behind.<br>
What a heart-breaking sunset! Yes, I'm glad you're with me . . . <p>
Still, you'll agree, I haven't been lucky here,<br>
and maybe this moving on will help me find<br>
whatever it is I've wanted.<br>
I feel like being alone high up in the mountains—<br>
the Rockies, maybe, or Tibet:<br>
I might come upon something like truth—and if I die, so be it."<p>
We watched the swollen sun sink redly seaward<br>
and stood for a time not speaking—then shook hands.<br>
"Goodbye," I said. "Prevail.<br>
May life serve you well while it lasts!<br>
I know you and I will be called as one, in the end."<br>
He smiled . . . I pulled from my hip the flask of brandy<br>
and we each took a sip before he turned and went.<p>
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