A glass half full

Another year,
pen in hand.
Still rising
from wild seas.
Open mouths
and clanging bells.
Now behind me.
And the dancing
slum lords, have
had their days.

A whale blows,
on new years morning.
As the last ferry
boat leaves,
for another shore.
On the highest
tide in history.
A radiance of
blue pines.
And a banner
your love.
Awaits my return
to your loving arms.

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