Morose wave lapping at my feet, I
listen: a low groaning stretched over
the water:
you enter the harbor, a great ship,
majestically soot-covered,
limping as a hull limps.
Like a spy, you know all the channels.
At the shore, silent now, quickly now,
the bastard skeletons dive:
I feel the ripples,
toes in the water.
You are
nearby.