Skeleton Town

A life is a vessel

Like the ships that enter safe harbor

A unique personality each their own

Fiction more interesting than fact

For small boys on the shore

We throw rocks

Same shores as we always have

Splash, in all our silly games

Killing time with no winner

Cold hands on cold rocks

We know the facts

Those trivial facts of life

This harbor is our birth right

And in death shall be the same

The shores have gravity

We talk a lot

Stick ball in the big leagues

Adventures over warm seas

Take away the winter chill

As we dare believe

The horn blows

Quitting time for the laborer

A fleeting joy for those few souls

Who used to be called shore boys

Who we just call Dad

 

The smell is ripe

We hate the pungent odor

They say a scent of money

Success brings a family pay

For a fortunate few

We wander home

The row houses lined straight

Until we each reach our own

And soon I walk all alone

Holes in my shoes

It smells the same

But the house feels different

Head down and eating slow

Not a word is spoken still

A tiptoe of death

I say hello

An eerie mumble returns back

Kids are quiet I follow suit

Look for hints in the room

A kid will know

I hear the words

Worse than those of death

The smell of money no more

A daily horn reminds us all

A changing tide

We walk a street

We are together yet all alone

In time they start to disappear

One by one into the dark mist

Changing season

A skeleton town

Memories all boarded up tight

In the row houses left behind

Where memories have no echo

Swept silent by the tides

Nicholas Campos - November 2024