Breezes coddle feathers fly over ocean waves,
Psalms wrought her wings glide along old Polo’s route
‘Til tides not ebbed wrack the rocks at lighthouse gate
Comes her Knock
Still deludes, for yet yields not relentless night
A fool, has no deter comes seeking Ponce’s dream
And to snare, for selfish shadows eclipse her shine.
Black-turned moon returns her fear’s way home.