a light snow kicks around the wharf
the currrent of traffic sounds cuts the cold air
my tobacco pipe, the only natural light
againt cityscape’s purple-highlit darkness
Category Archives: waterfront
all schematics are no match for eternal enigmatic devices
rain hammers against concrete and wood
distant leaves hang on until the wind wins
the seasonal tug-of-war
let the Mary Miller’s lines go
catch them again
walk the Belle decks
whisper to the boiler and pumps
sharing our stories of the past season
the cityscape looms starboard
its light erasing the stars
the wharf grows into an endless plain
and out the portside
the river stretches wide arms
to everywhere
Hello my name is and I am
After the cruise I am standing on the north end of the wharf, smoking my pipe. This is my communion with the river. I give it my joy. I give it my pain. It is older and wiser than me. My back to the city that resembles less and less each day the place I moved to 11 years ago. Home. The cityscape is a crime scene left to rot. That scimitar moon watching over, bending my eye back towards the river. This kiss of fall, one of those teases. I give my resentments to the river, the way I learned in AA meetings. Hold onto nothing or it will hold on to you. I allow my mind to empty with the pipe smoke dissipating in the sunset air.