Poem image in black text on oceanic background with stars - gray


What I want to do is sit with you, not
See you off, under dock lights that swallow
Star twinkles like they were nothing at all

Saturnine night thus illumes distant quay . . .
Transports await their time / we say goodbyes
Persistent, lapping waves conjure minds’ eyes

Bellies buckle under weight of concern
—Gone . . . light of the wharf having fallen
You’ll see as you sail away, light of day

Dawn’s glorious sun, gleaming momentum
Beyond that of ours, or our many stars
Clearing haze of quayside’s smallest hours.


8 thoughts on “Quayside”

      1. You’re right on track, or nearby. This poem is the result of a recent nightmare which itself is related to actual events and a dread of the worst possibilities ahead. At first, it was just a need to recapture the gutting sensations experienced at the time, but—as poetry often does for me—reforms the dread into something . . . more forward-thinking.

        [My other reply to you is its own level 1 comment, oops. I should always come to the page and understand where I am.]

        Liked by 1 person

      2. It wasn’t your fault. I always jump the gun when I’m commenting and then realize I didn’t fully think it over a second after I press send. Learning about your writing process for this poem was a treat. 🙂

        Liked by 2 people

      3. No fault, no worries! Our first impressions are often self-reflective and this is exactly how we all read poems, take in art. Knowing what’s behind the drafting or creation of a piece of work can be of good interest, but I suppose much of the good is about those first, personalized impressions that work for us as we ‘take in’ a new work. It’s all good!

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Tanmay, thanks so much, I love that you’ve had this memory experience with me today. It is a fascinating world, I can understand the draw, especially for those without available ties, though.

    Liked by 2 people

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