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John Tustin


The Night Sings by Edward Supranowicz

Looking out from my spot on a ship that is half submerged –
There are the gulls above that cry for garbage and fish
And there is the sun that falls down and down
And there is the ocean all around,
Sloshing and lapping.
On the horizon is the new storm,
Fresh on the heels of an old one
And farther than my eye can see
Is a shore somewhere
With a castle and a fort;
Men and women and children
And turrets for the gunners
Who are always on the lookout for hostiles.
The people stand still on the sand,
Looking out to the sea
But not seeing me all the way out there alone
Where I am bobbing and diving –
Wishing I could find that shore
Where all these people stand around
Watching and waiting for something to happen,
Anything to happen.
I want to be on the shore waiting with them
Even though I know everything there
Is already ruined
And nothing is coming from the sea to save them.


About the writer:
John Tustin’s poetry has appeared in many disparate literary journals since 2009.

Image: The Night Sings by Edward Supranowicz (contemporary). Digital image. No technical information specified. 2021. By permission.

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