The Nighttime Swells

[alatos]

Edit #1:

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 calls silently to come
beyond the jetty’s shore of rocky caves.
I breathe and smell the empty air. Bay Rum
still lingers on my clothes, a faint but strong
reminder of my bed, and sleep. The strum
of diesel valves, the engine’s drum, a song
of leaving home to join the endless seas.
Where else, beneath such stars, could I belong?
What better friends, what stronger ties than these,
the onyx swells, the current, and the breeze?