The voyage, now, is at an end.
The anchors have been cast.
The fleet bobs silently offshore,
looking boundlessly vast.
For fog has settled on the bay
and ship shapes fade to gray.
They count themselves infinite ships
while bounded by that bay.
The sea deceives, that much is true;
the rest we’ve yet to know.
Some will swear that trawlers sit there
that were lost long ago.
the !n(tro)verted yogi 
So many wonderful word pictures in this poem. I can see the boats bobbing in the water anchored offshore in my mind. It is a fitting poem for the year that is coming to an end.
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Thank you.
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Fabulous blog
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Amazing poem
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Thanks
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My pleasure
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It has a beautiful pictorial quality, really nice
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