The Night Pier

The Night Pier

The night pier,
A single spear stuck firmly in the breast of this long coastline
Bridging land and ocean,
A Grey stone anchored in motion, and set in blackened blue jewels.
A saphire saxaphone, inset upon its shadowed crown,
Inflares noir with its streak screachings reaching even the furthest beaches,
And scattering the last of the licentious seagulls
Away to their nowhere nests.

And whats left of the silver backed balloon clouds
File by mournfully
Under the unblinking eye of a cirle moon,
Hunched over, cowaring, nervous to be seen
In the darkness.

Below, relaxing waters unlax their waves
Leaking them into trickle ripplings.
The shore tightens its black satin shroud,
Its ripped tides of a hundred thousand gurgling fountains,
Settling satin along its cool pale shoulder
Ink blotting pocks of forgotten footprints.


Ledge of existence, dock synapse,
Spanner of Mind and Space,
Where air holds its breath
And exhales breezes.
Fire lit, the saxaphone flickers fusion
Into burnt wic smoke
Desintegrate

As still
I sit,

Adrift,
On a corner of warm cement.