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Thomas Redner Nov 2011
The engines never stop,
and the cranes don't stop swaying.
Day in, day out. Day in, day out.
This city doesn't sleep much,
but when it does,
I never do.

Blue cranes off in the distance,
and a naval fleet at the ready.
College kids are off at the bars
and the naval officers of just one bar,
they sleep, hoping for orders.

The rhythm of the night is set by the trains.
Click, clack. Click, clack.
And the whistle cuts through the empty streets.

The lights of the harbor
bleed into the water.
All the way to my shores,
though they are totally foreign.

— The End —