The winter wind whines
through the bare marina
where the halyards’ heartstrings
sing a lament
for the turbulent sea.

Invisible air fingers
wring mournful sounds
from metal masts
in abandoned boats.
The pulsating percussion of the sheets.

The gale’s cacophony symphony
plays to an audience
of empty docks,
while a single seagull swoops
through the sobbing sighs of the strings
oblivious to the turmoil.

The storm’s pizzicato moans
in a wailing refrain
of a thousand windchimes
which reverberate through the jetties
in a clink-clank chorus.