Volume 8 | Spring 2018

by Jason Moore

On the starboard bridge wing hours before reveille
Waves munch on the hull like stalks of celery
The night sky and saltwater smell to me
Is the best part of being underway and the epitome
Of freedom—it’s so humbling, alas
Billions of stars above and below an ocean so vast
Tracking a contact with my binoculars so we don’t crash
Hundreds of nautical miles deep in the Pacific Ocean
With a sea state of one, there’s barely any pitch or yaw motion
Another Class 3 merchant safely passes
I look down at the waves and see bioluminescent light flashes