Montrose Harbor

for Karl and Mark, who share this memory of a father we never knew

text and music by
R. A. Falesch


Montrose Harbor

This place has come again, still chronicling,
etching wisps of lifetimes on its terraced shore.

Truths lie sleeping in these rocks, hurled before me:
distant memories of uncertain children await their call.

Circling gulls seek signal from the half-bright
horizon of dawn’s sleeping eyelids, whose awakening glow
offered ten-thousand greetings since he passed by.

Who was he, what did I take from him?
They will tell me,
they will tell me…

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