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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