Tema Port.
A bird roams the skies, looking for perch.
The air is filled with grunts,
of machines lifting metal boxes,
Cranes rule the skies here, and the pulse of earth has
long since died.
Feel concrete beneath your feet, as you gaze upon blue
sky.
Breeze comes;
Carrying chill from beyond break waters
and greetings from faraway,
The berth rumbles, myrtle green bubbling,
as tug-boats ready a welcome for titanic guests;
Behemoths carrying the Atlantic dream and cargo from
over the seas.
Make sure you wear a reflector, it's protocol.
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/86r4zn/not_yours/dw79c2x?utm_source=reddit-android
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/86ppor/perishable/dw7tjbi?utm_source=reddit-android
Posted Mar 24, 2018, 5:21 PM UTC · edited
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