Star-Whirled Harbor Café

Beneath the swirling sky, the harbor softly sighs, Gold lanterns stitch their dreams on darkened, glassy seas. On quiet café boards, the empty chairs arise, While star-fires turn the night to slow, unending peace. The boats lie still as thoughts that dare not yet depart, Their shadows rocked by light that trembles, then grows clear. A city’s distant hush beats gently like a heart, And salt-blue air holds time—tender, bright, and near.