Port of Call

Rum and Robots

Poem by Joni Caggiano 11/5/20 (Beautiful photo by Johannes Plenio with Pexels)

walking on sultry air toward the lights
lingering to smell the hidden sunshine
still treading so softly on these nights

tacit air is where you would caress me
where the darkness holds our imprints
into my heart my sailor from the sea

my beach house, and I did give you all
awake again as bodies spent exploring
in Wilmington’s once lonely port of call

my heart drops as I look toward all men
searching for your firm, and suntan face
wondering where darling have you been

every night I move like something dead
an empty horn without air I bleed silently
you did warn me, no promises you said

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