Crossing.
We cut through light
As we leave the harbour.
It dances beneath the keel,
The throb and pull of the engine,
The invisible sky.
We set course, choosing
To cross from loss to
Expectation,
From regret to hope.
Once outside, once we leave,
The boat broaches swell
And spray dashes above the prow, while,
Behind us, the lights recede and
Across the black water, there is
Now nothing but night.
[after 'Night tide' by David Hodges]
