Outside my window,
Just beyond the
open shutters,
A lofty palm
tree’s frond flutters
Like a seabird’s
ample wings
In the easy breeze
that sings
A song of tender
night and peace.
In the distance
the ocean calls,
Waves advancing
and receding
With a roar and
then a growl,
Like a predator on the prowl
For senseless prey
and fishermen
At careless play
in the briny den.
The sky is defined
by silver clouds,
That billow like
the rising smoke
Of a furnace crammed
with coke,
And rush northwards
in upper airstreams,
Making it seem
that the marvellous moon
Is flying south to
polish the polar gloom.
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