Finishing up a night shift. So very sleepy I am.
Two ships at ports opposite, transparent with their billowing sails, at the end of their journeys harrowing, and set to pass by one more time
They glide toward each other at a slower march, an oath of shared aches and pains echo forth
Age had dimmed beauty to a thin memory, but their rare vision saw that splendid grandeur
Twinkling gazes connect like dancing shadows on eyes and on walls, and marrow deep is their picture of youth
They borrow knowledge from years of toil and hold tight to shared joy until into the light they go