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the Golden Gate, she sang to me
in a darkened whispered voice
El Niño crying like a spoiled child
of all the sad souls brought to her
with desperation’s choice
that flew like angels
from her transoms, wild
oh dare I hearken to that song
that pressed to tympans, sweet
a secret that commanded I impart
the answer I had sought so long
of darkened dreams, complete
and one last sleep that
plunged the ocean’s heart?
it was a day of days - the sort
that put most days to shame
as Sol daubed on the sea her Sunday best
as though to woo me and to court
my coursings for her flame
with all the sparkling
jewels upon her breast
to put to rest these passioned pains
midst such a gloried breeze
would be to deign those somber voices true
but life and loves and loss had brought
this madman to his knees
my last adventure
meant for bounding blue
so there atop the stanchions stood
one man of heartened breaths
a smile as broad as sun upon the waves
and though the bridge had sung of
sweeter dreams and grander deaths
the raw breath-stealing beauty
of that wondrous glistened sea -
the thoughts of one hereafter
where a soul could wander free
and all the joys that filled me up
like that gold, tender sea
made that the best of
blue Pacific graves …
so off I flew -
the freest of her slaves.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2022
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