Oh Giant Frigate the Port is Empty

and the Memories in a Poet’s Eyes

sonically they Echo Soliloquy

by water passes a Day is nothiing

but as a Sonnet preserves--Imagine

the surface bent the shallow undertow

Mosses green island plentiful splendor

beauty allures it declines in power

across the anchor in the horizon

still as the Sinking happens on its own

without explanation for its Descent

Violins as though Stringing and Wails

Is Music without a Musical Soul

Vehicle and Carriage to Metaphor.

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