The half-moon approaches
and mounts the great
charcoal sky,
showing the distant
town’s men
why she rules
the day’s end, she
silences the tide,
allowing
the boat keeper
to reel in the line,
dragging
his weight closer
to
the land’s edge,
straining
his heavy worked
limbs, he catches
the wooden
sea-scarred masses,
stretched out
across the rim
of the
empty bay.