Emerald Isle, Rodanthe, Hattaras and Topsail
lay furled on this side of the Atlantic,
on the edge of something wild and immense.
Across that expanse of open ocean
an unexplored continent out there
glimmers faintly in the distance:
a silhouette of Lisbon maybe,
or the Canary Islands,
the Isle of Skye
and beyond: Morocco, the mysterious shore
of Africa, with its lost trails to Fez
and Marakesh, the fabled bazaars
of Timbuktu. And there they might tell you
rumors of coastlines of ivory
and tales of cities of diamonds and gold
if you will brave the journey.

Who can tell if you will ever return?