Lovelessness

Funchal

What shall I call it
the enigmatic ocean –
white ships sailing
upon it like lost souls
dwarfed in its immensity

It has no meaning
it has no purpose
other than to be –
to curl its briny lips
upon distant shores

Like the moon and stars
it stirs the imagination
and feeds our dreams
but after seventy years
of days and nights
I have no answers
except to say that I know
where love lies and
where it does not

John Lyons

One thought on “Lovelessness

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