It blew in against the tide
with so little fanfare
that it startled the longshoremen
who had taken to rust in the salt air.
Smiles of self-congratulation
rivalled the blaze of the setting sun.
“To patience and perseverance,”
trumpeted a hanger-on
who had practiced neither.
Tonight, all along the shore
the scritch of pencil on paper.
Nice, Steve. I love it when those ships come in, and they arrive so seldom…
Too true. I’ve been recycling for a month or so.
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