The Docks of St. Jude

I saw you once,
on the noisy docks of St. Jude.

You were standing bare, fair and proud.
Alone in a great crowd of people dancing.
My blood to never cool again.

How rare the flower that blooms through cement.
How beautiful the raindrops on a clear afternoon.

I lost myself in a face that never looked my way.
I wondered out loud the contour of your skin,
the sound of your harmony.

And in the moment of your gently lifted heels from ground,
lightening struck my head with the visage of Aphrodite.

Too soon time began around us and I walked alone,
held down by the realities of this existence.

So here I sit, on these old wooden planks.
Water kissing my toes, lifting a glass towards the summer wind.

Remembering sweet moments of your memory
on the broken docks of St. Jude.

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From Thorns collected poems vol. 2 by j. m. wieland

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