Nights by the port


Nights by the port

narrow streets dim-lit

they wait for some action

smokes red-glowing.


Street-walkers stationed pause

patient as saints for the clients to creep

furtive as foxes

or swagger flash-suited


out of the deep dark

drawn by the red glow

and the soft owl-call

of the unfledged.


Ship’s horn sounds

like a cow to the slaughter

harbour lights glow red

then green.


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

3 thoughts on “Nights by the port”

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