The Brass Lock
I ambled the streets of the Old Port,
when I felt that there was nothing left.
I took out the ring once proudly worn
and found it a place upon the fence.
I locked it fast, safe among the rest,
to be seasoned in the salty air.
A brass lock holds the bond we made.
'Loved Once'
--are the words I've written there.
Turning my back on the locks of love
I carried my bones into the street,
seeking a drink to foggy my mind;
finding the air had become as sweet.
The dampness from the ocean mist
had brought a fine shimmer to the bricks,
And trapped the light in perfect circles
at places where the bulbs had been lit.
I drank a beer at the Thirsty Pig;
sitting alone, watched the daylight fade.
The darkness matching the light inside,
briefly --before it hastened away.
The light had gone from my love as well,
yet I saw the world in crisper lines.
My eyes caught the shape of fairer smiles
from the unknown faces walking by.
I rose up --after a slow, deep breath
with the weight of the brass lock now gone.
I saw a man in the glazier'd door,
still seeking a place he might belong.
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