Portsmouth

A Poem by Robert Alverez

Rough steel points towards god,
grey waters house grey fish,
tired faces guide old ships
while screaming gulls flail above.

Seasoned men trim salt-kissed roses,
young lovers exchange eyes and smiles,
bells sound in every direction
while a caned woman contemplates the sea.

Lone orange waders in a compact boat
discard the smallest of the mornings catch.

Dull blue clouds blanket the sky
while never a quiet moment passes.