Port of Call

Scribbled Verse

“The Immigrant Void” by Bruno Catalano

Port of Call …

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

with the breath of the ocean

a caressing balm,

soothing pained memories away,

to the swaying of a solitary palm.

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

feeling the brushing away of past turmoil,

on a quest for solace ever so hard to find,

yet comforted by the crashing of the waves,

as the tide washes away pain,

leaving despair far, far behind.

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

drenched in a sea-breeze of mist,

shushing aches of bygone moons,

tasting the salty tang on my lips,

as the burnished sun,

over the distant horizon,

swoons,

and dips.

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

searching, ever searching,

for a slice of solitude,

as memory bids adieu,

reaching under the sea so vast,

and seeking comfort in the…

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