The edge of Lough Derg. Shortly after daybreak. Over there, Holy Island. Mist in distant trees. Standing there with my dying friend. Final stage. Two seasons to live. At most.
These past few days he is feeling well. Rises early. Makes the most of every day. Every minute.
The water flat calm. Stoop down. Pick up. Arm back. Release.
the arc of a stone
that moment as it peaks