The Shore - Farewell to L

I saw your sailboat racing
From the edge of the shore
Through the froth, through the foam
Alongside the swells
To the edge of the breakwater
To the jetty, to the sand bar
Where the waves lull, and luffing
Then catching a fresh breeze
And you pull across the outer range of whitecaps
Whipped by this freshe breeze
And your red hair is flowing
And your face is shining, you hold
A bronzed tiller, standing in the hull
Of your craft and the sun is setting
And you are leaving, and I stand
On the empty shore in dusk, your
Sail finally a glimmer on the edge of the sky
Before disappearing