Steel boots on the concrete floor
I pace by the harbor door
The wind tastes of rusted brine
I watch for a distant sign
Salty air and heavy clay
Wash the tired hours away
Roots go deep in midnight sand
Holding tight to shaking hand
Monstera in the lobby hall
Lean against the painted wall
I talk to the glossy green
The only friend I have seen
Salty air and heavy clay
Wash the tired hours away
Roots go deep in midnight sand
Holding tight to shaking hand
Calathea folds its leaves
The restless harbor wind heaves
I check on the potting mix
Looking for a mental fix
Latin names for every stem
Hidden like a polished gem
Salty mist on iron rails
Telling all the lonely tales
The pier is a jagged line
Where the oil and water twine
I prune back the yellowing vine
Waiting for the morning shine
Salty air and heavy clay
Wash the tired hours away
Roots go deep in midnight sand
Holding tight to shaking hand
My flashlight cuts through the gray
Counting down the hours to day
Soil on my thumb and my wrist
Lost inside a coastal mist
Salty air and heavy clay
Wash the tired hours away
Roots go deep in midnight sand
Holding tight to shaking hand
Salt and soil, salt and soil
Just the earth and harbor oil.