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the docks

by Peter Humphreys

cranes
hang their
heads as
if weary
weeping
rain
as
wind
whirls
through
the docks
now empty
no more
spices
grain
timber
or fruits
of many
lands
just
silence
eery
empty
pregnant
with memories
of men's
laughter
tears
anger
resolution

the wind
whirls

a gull
calls

she
drowns

08/18/2006

Posted on 08/18/2006
Copyright © 2023 Peter Humphreys

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/18/06 at 05:59 PM

A rich picture of what was and now is - a drowning gull - symbol of a sad demise??

Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 08/19/06 at 07:27 PM

The beginnings and endings of all human undertakings are untidy. So well framed here, Peter. Thanks.

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