Silence is the memories of late night truck stops
Some sticky September serenades of noise
And just legal cleavage
The dawn rises too early
With the whipping snap of a bitter wind
Romancing the trees, grass, and man-made nightmares
Of construction, pavement, and steel
We are alone here some voice echoes
Reassuring that no one will ever be with anyone
And the dying days of our light is just that
Left hanging in the whimpering breeze

*Traveling to foreign shores with seaside shanties
Of mermaids, sirens, and demons of the depth
One day we will rest in Davey Jones’ locker
Telling stories of our youth to rusted seashells
Waiting for a sun to rise beneath the trenches of dead whales