Bare harbor house stands empty now
Where busy quays were then regaled
Faded cedar frames boarded glass
Silent pine eyes
Scan umber waters where pirates’ ships
Once sailed.

Wall to stone sea gives grudging retreat
Granite vanity shield on which seagulls play
Hide-and-seek along cloud-muted sand
Defiant cries
Daunt waiting ears, as battered piers begin
Grim sway

Her flamenco by warm Mexican gulf
Wild tarantos call gypsy wind
Trails manton, exposed wanton soul
With every braceo, twist and bend.

Skirts twirl wide, careless sequins rain bright
Solitary star shine touches her veil
Serpentine weave through emerald night

She dances too close, vanilla smoke breeze
Mixed with raw tamarind sweat dares
Common sense, dusky affilá
Groans, fingers tantalize, intense stare

Cleaves through ripped skies, nails tear broken skin
Final barrier yields, sends gulls on their way
Seeking ports unknown under gray shroud
Exhausted sighs
Drift downward, tin cast on sable velvet
Dismay.

Deserted now, harbor house leans
Where King Cotton long past was baled
Cracked, peeling paint, salt-stained planks begrudge
Duende lies
Watch hurricane tides where clipper ships
Once sailed.