Tea and a book

Maryam Gamar

Canada

just a teen writer trying to raise my voice above average

Message from Writer

Hey guys! I would love to get any feedback you can give me. I believe in honest feedback so don't hold back! :)

​Calls of Port

September 4, 2015

Foghorn bellows
A deep mournful call never captured on paper,
Only heard.
It startles the morning awake
With its sadness, almost tangible
And makes the sea smoke settle heavier on the water
Somehow.
 
Later
The rumbling of voices rises with the tide
As the rattle of fish carts heightens,
And iron wheels converse with the dock like the fishermen with each other.
Shouts ricochet through the air
As the silver-bellied fish flop in their nets, mouths agape.
 
Later
Seagulls scream and swoop
Their raucous calls punctuating the afternoon with lively exclamation marks,
That demand recognition.
They rejoice in their own noise,
Drawing energy from the rhythm of wings beating the air;
A cacophonous frenzy in the sky.
 
Later
Boat timbers groan into port
And rusted chains rasp in their turning wheels
The sun slowly melts into the ocean as tired feet trundle down the gangplank
With dull tinny steps.
Tiny wavelets slosh against the pier
And sweet birdcalls are silenced as darkness falls.
 
Finally,
Foghorn bellows
A calming strain of closure that smells of salt spray,
And feels like dark velvet skies.
Its baritone echoes with comfort to some, unknown mysteries to others
And it makes the stars seem brighter
Somehow.

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