Stealing inspiration (New Poem)

Sometimes I dream
Of the foghorn near the docks
Whistling like a forgotten friend
In your letterbox
Walking home from work
After I had left for the last time.

Remember the ringing of the last tram,
Which freezes in the air
Like a photograph
Before breathing too quickly
Ain’t you glad you walked away. 

Sometimes I dream of
The chime of the clock
Near the BBC
Weeping under spires
And underneath dock boats,

Dreaming of my heart
Tied up in chains
Before I unpicked the lock
And walked away without regret,

Stealing inspiration
from the sunset.