The night gentles and is clear
for our long outward passage.

The sky, entertaining as a pinball machine
shoots two stars above our mast.

Yes, I would have furled you close then too.
It is something about

how we have known endings before,
how promises begin this beautiful.

Deep-keeled, we head out
past other lit silhouettes

crossing the Separation Zone
to slip silently along their lanes.

I am not far from myself, nor you,
and not another masthead light in sight.