Home Harbor

Who knows, we might run without heartache down
the final reach of this cruise;
might anchor without incident at our home harbor,
and ferry ashore to look up old friends.
Ship decommissioned, or laid up in drydock,
we might walk the sand of our last retirement
at the water, not on it,
but where we can see its blue remembrance
and hear the echoes of its ancient history
bringing back the images without injury
of storms survived and dreary days
of labor passed, hands overboard, the groundings;
and all at last comprehended,
stowed where they belong,
forgiven and forgiving
as we fall asleep at night.

April 9 2014