i wrote a poem for a very first time in years, it's called the tempest's retire

my mind turns at this din of night
the shore far yet still in sight
narrowly past 4, as i write away
i then wonder, has ship left bay?

the ship behind time
the hour, to turn away
disenchant had lingered
a shadow of regret's dead ringer?

The dial reMained
Alas, the crew were Chained
the storms, then passed
a back, then forth, that last

as I return to my din of night,
the stars have lined and check in time
to turn a different light
the stewards in piece and boat out of sight