Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #479

The East Coast Calls
by Belinda Roddie

The east coast calls for me, my love, for me -
its shores beckon my weary feet to tread
upon its cheeks, bathing in revelry,
as if the salt could cure my addled head
from its persistent demons. New York screams
for new blood, while Rhode Island modestly
requests my presence; meanwhile, Boston's seams
burst for my pseudo-seamstress hands. A dream
within a dream pulls me from west to east
right up at least to North Carolina,
where beaches' lips kiss demons roaming free
along rocks that are far from Krajina.
O' Gods! Must my poor soul yearn for a change
when my heart's nestled in a western range?