The Death of the Poet Li Po by Jane Ellen Glasser (Goodreads Author)
Some say it was the wine. Some say it was love,
the moon smiling up at him from the river.
He was drunk. The boat was tipsy. He stood,
aching to embrace such loveliness forever.
The stars looked on. The lapping waves
were dancing. Leaning out over the gunwale,
he toasted his image which lay now beside
the moon’s face and drank again. The sails
billowed and the little craft rocked him forward.
He could not deny himself. He reached and reached
until the river opened its mouth and drank him.
The boat was lost in the blackness. The beach
was miles away. This was Li Po’s last line.
Some say it was love. Some say it was the wine.