I saw a marvelous light on a small boat's mast and thought it was your smile keeping the clouds away, a harbor from long ago when men had only their nets to mend by the fire of your presence in touch with quiet.
And then the day came to me, long after dawn. What was I to busy myself with? All the boats had put to sea years ago. Storms came and went, leaving old moorings beyond repair. And nets? The impressions left to embers. And then a smile crossed my face: the rest of my life.