The Nighttime Swells

[ChessPiece]

I watch the little harbor disappear
and motor on to meet the midnight waves.
I turn to contemplate the black frontier:
how many lie, lured gladly to their graves?
The buoy’s light sings patiently to come
beyond the jetty’s shore of rocky caves.
I breathe and smell the empty breeze. Bay Rum
still lingers on my clothes, a faint yet strong
reminder of my bed, and sleep. The strum
of engine gears, the diesel’s drum, a song
of leaving home to join the endless seas.
Where else, on this wide earth, could I belong?
What better friends, what stronger ties than these,
the nighttime swells, to put my soul at ease?

Excellent little poem! I'm a sucker for any poem that relates to the sea, the ocean, lakes...hell maybe even a pond. This flows really well and I can definitely smell the diesel! Have to agree with the previous posts about the wide earth...imo just earth should do it.