• Lorraine Johnson

[80] Seamless Shore

The streetlights speak of passing feet,

swift goodbyes, and lingering eyes

Up the mango tree I go,

as sweet drippings ping below

and palms brush along the flow

of the wind’s ever whispering all-day show.


One—Two—Three, it goes

Up—Down, it plays

Squeezing life from the lips

of memories gone to every sip

leave once more and evermore

Oh how the streetlights speak, as they fade

and the red lifts darkness from mystique,

and every note still yet to play.

Listen under the streetlights,

a thousand songs still hum along

Climb the mountain—look out to sea

make room for sand between the toes

and a gentle caress upon the soul


Climb, look out, make room—once more,

a new tide washes upon this seamless shore,

and laughter awaits—

on the other side of the open door.