The morning watch begins early <br />with coffee and a smoke topside. <br />Four o'clock on the ninth day <br />of November- <br />first morning of our last voyage before lay-up. <br /> <br />Soon the fog lifts to reveal <br />rust-orange deck plates <br />and coiled hawsers like snakes <br />writhing lazily around bollards. <br />Ruby-red first light glows <br />on pilothouse. <br /> <br />Throbbing engines below decks pound <br />and pulse like a beating heart. <br /> <br />Then we sail into deep dark water.<br /><br />Michael Pruchnicki<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/morning-watch/
