- Category: Juvenilia
- Written by Jim Dee
I have a studio apartment here on
South Franklin; nothing extravagant
for a hundred year old Wilkes-Barre home.
It's all been modernized now,
except for these six lovely windows
which half encircle me on this April night.
I must be crazy as Mary Tyrone,
but I hear foghorns tonight,
foghorns from somewhere with no boats!
I think how fitting it must be:
When I switch on my lamp,
it casts six perfect searchlights
into the streets. So, I pretend
there is a sea here and
passing cars become a lonely tide.
[circa 1989 / 1990]