Cargo Unknown

They loaded long beyond first light, Past gulls that quit the pier. The ledger gathered names and weights That never settled clear.

The winches sang in measured turns, The chains replied below. Some things arrive with all the noise, Some leave with none at all.

There were hands I'd never seen before, Clean boots upon the deck. Not sailors by the way they stood — Too still about the neck.

They spoke in little borrowed words, Enough to pass the day. Like rain that finds the smallest crack, Then quietly makes its way.

My love, you'd laugh to see me now, Counting ropes instead of stars. Learning every honest thing Except what filled those cars.

I told myself a ship keeps faith By carrying, not by creed. The sea has room for every weight, And every man's need.

The captain signed. The bosun swore. The dockhands wiped their hands. The paper knew more than I did, And that was how it stands.

I learned the harbor's thousand sounds: Timber, cable, rain. Funny how a man grows used To hearing round a name.

There's comfort in the common work — A knot pulled square and tight. The hands remember what to do When the head declines the sight.

So if my letters wander some, Forgive the shifting sea. I write of all the things I've seen, And miss what shouldn't be.

Tomorrow brings another tide, Another watch to keep. Some questions sink before they're asked, Like anchors through the deep.

And the moment to turn back Like the day is moving past But my love... those questions aren't mine to ask. Those questions aren't mine to ask. Those questions aren't mine to ask. Questions... aren't mine.