Southampton, salt on the dashboard light,
Your harbor breathes in pale moon-white.
I trace the docks where dreamers once stood,
Ghost-white gulls write names in the wood.
Ferry horns echo like old vinyl seams,
Spinning slow hymns of leaving dreams.
I park by the pier, engine ticking the tide,
Your windy lullaby still inside.
So carry me, Southampton, out past the bar,
Where starlight drips like spilled guitar.
If I drift asleep on this passenger seat,
Let the Solent keep the rest of my beat.