Savannah Waterfront

Like an old stevedore the harbor sleeps, The ships at anchor and the barges tied. Beyond the mist, a lone star, curious-eyed, Watches the hesitant darkness as it creeps In measured patterns till the marsh is one With sky and river and, far out, the sea — Lost now and lonely and no longer free, But bearing still the memory of sun. No husky voices rise to break the spell, No banjo throws a note across the night; Only the long slow wash of a drowsy river That fails to wake the throat of a buoy bell, Says requiem for a day that has ended forever In yellow periods of lantern light.