Fishing Anywhere

Where we will be at the end of the world as we know it, none of us know, and we are moving into darkness. “Shall I be a cloud or a ship? Shall I be a fish or a moss? neither that nor this nor this Man should be a sea, my child with its cloud, ship, fish and moss.” This world will get cold one day; It's not even like a chunk of ice or a cloud, It will roll like an empty walnut Endless, alone in the pitch dark.