Cold is Luna's face
Romantic names give no warmth
Fading piano music
Closing pubs with dying eyes
Fog embracing all
Soft shroud giving respectability
Georgian masonry piles slowly decaying
Dead empires wash upon
Oily Thames river bank
Down on the water front
Smoking my last Embassy
It is a Dire Straight moment
With a Pink Floyd heartbeat
Trans-Atlantic blues riding my shoulders
Carry my heart in a whiskey bottle
Full of dreams
Hoping to land my washed up soul
In a soft curve of sand
Shinning like a sun kissed diamond
As Sea Oats wave hello...
My soul is home once more
-Fin-
DS Baker
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