70

Loud shouting from the docks
I can hear more than that from my window.
The creaking of ropes
and the complaining straining wood.

Seagulls screaming out their anger
above the waves
that are crushed against the breakers.

Flags and sails snapping at the wind.
Barrels are rolled up and down the boards
coming from or going to distand lands
that I hear smells of spice and smoke.

All that I hear.
Nothing I see
I shall never see the sea.