Imagining

He sat here, on this very stone. He said he was tired he said this stone was a dot on the face of this deserted island that final period for him. He said the ship was a mirage. He said and water dripped from the curls of his long hair onto the burning pebbles. He said and the wind blew over his broad red shoulders in the shadows of the reeds. He said and his eyes slid over the waves in the brightness of day. He said... until once again on seeing a shape like a sail stirring far away - like a fish chasing its mate - he leapt into the water. He sat here right here he said he was tired!...