Harbour Lights Poem by Mark Heathcote

Harbour lights twinkle in their smoky sparks
gulls-above circle, where a wet dog barks
barks, barks at the white waves leaping ashore.
I shudder to think of sailors offshore;
how fates in the hands of a pitch-and-toss
there is no-patina there is no-gloss
lives-are-lost at sea and-widows are-made
singing shanties on a pier promenade
so when I look at harbour lights twinkling
in and out of view and the sacrifice
that is daily-given, freely, think twice
because one of those lights might not come home
one of those lights might not go out alone.
And that poor widow, let's not forget-
her bed is now empty not, just a net.