Studying for Orals

late at night

sitting at my rocky table

reading

by unshaded bulb

undisturbed by

the cold nipping

my fingers or

the lines slapping

the mast or

the mast humming

its deep tune

i hear something

against the hull–

sloshing, flapping,

feathers sighing,

a bill dipping in

and out, 

caressing

i freeze, more than i am

push my feet closer

to my little heater

and listen

trying to count

how many

at least one

i think two

maybe three

are they the parents

with their little ones

i see swimming around

the marina during daylight

winding around hulls

beneath floating docks

speaking their secrets

i want to go look

but if i move

the boat will move

they will be moved

disturbed

like me

i do not want that

why ruin their night

it is already cold

below freezing

outside

below comfort

in here

five hundred hulls

in this marina

two thousand

in this harbor

why mine

my feet burn

too close

ah, of course

i return to

my reading, leaving

them to their

bathing or

eating or

settling in

will they sleep there

pressed against my hull

absorbing that which

i would

keep inside

i hope so

for once, i do not mind

that fiberglass is poor

insulation, that entropy

siphons away what i need

as long

i think

as it goes to them

their muffled dance joins

the directionless music

of my boat

and i feel accompanied

like them, all i

want is

a little

warmth