Pier 94

 

I, frantic, cry
       Thy treasured name
To many deafened ear.

So few a form
        Escaped this day
And now lie silent here.

Those innocent
         Interred below
Entombed among the floors,

Shall nevermore
          View tranquil seas
Upon these harbor shores.

Amidst the desperation
           And the tortured love
We wait,

To know what fate
           Thy soul has met
Upon September’s gate.

Thy name and stat
            Apparent now
In gently stabbing flame.

Return to thy
            Embrace of God
From where and whence thee came.

Thy empty glove
             No hand to fill;
The likeness of my soul.

Thy body not, nor mine
             Shall breathe
To make us longer whole.

And thus, I part
             From Death’s platform
And trade my sunlight for

The darkness I have
            Realized here
Upon Pier Ninety-four.

 

H. Jane Harrington

Copyright © 2002, H. Jane Harrington

   
   
   

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Copyrighted © 2002, Tumbleweed Crossing