The poem is a tiny scene of tension, and much of its force comes from what it leaves unsaid. A ship needs water, and the speaker's group meets the owners, people they call "brothers in the company." The word suggests partnership and shared interest. But the last lines turn that closeness sour: "all our guns / were open / to revenge."
The title, "Arbitration," promises a calm settlement of a dispute, yet the ending suggests the opposite. The guns are "open," a strange, slightly ambiguous word, as if the weapons and the talk were both on the table. The speaker doesn't say exactly what the grievance is, so we sense old resentment without knowing its cause.
The mood is wary and cold. The short lines and sudden breaks make each phrase feel like a held breath. Friendship and threat sit side by side, and the poem leaves us unsure whether the meeting will end in agreement or violence.