On Deck At Night Poem by Robin Fulton

On Deck At Night



Finding no moon, no stars, no
horizon.
Seeing no difference beween
blackness of sea, blackness of sky.

Imagining those few lights
(oil-rigs, ships)
are meagre faltering streetlamps
in a village long ago.

Expecting to hear footsteps
on gravel
then a knock on a green door
and a voice inside: "It´s open."

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Robin Fulton

Robin Fulton

Isle of Arran, United Kingdom
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