Black waters reflect,
sounds echo from the weir above,
and voices slur over railings.
A tense enclosure,
Unable to look away.
sounds echo from the weir above,
and voices slur over railings.
A tense enclosure,
Unable to look away.
Freezing gusts blast my face,
rain and spray soak to the bone.
Bulbous growths spread through the water,
as birds glide above like ghosts.
Towards the distant haze.
rain and spray soak to the bone.
Bulbous growths spread through the water,
as birds glide above like ghosts.
Towards the distant haze.
Tufts break up the freezing water,
branches jut like splintered glass,
birdsong rises and falls.
Lights flash round and disappear.
My head aches with the cold.
branches jut like splintered glass,
birdsong rises and falls.
Lights flash round and disappear.
My head aches with the cold.
Rhythmic thuds above,
the squeak of branches in the wind.
A wreck stands out from the darkness.
Ivy crawling around its wheels,
pulling it back into the earth.
the squeak of branches in the wind.
A wreck stands out from the darkness.
Ivy crawling around its wheels,
pulling it back into the earth.
Alone in the cold and quiet,
staring into the water,
at creases drawn across the surface.
Street lights flicker through waving reeds,
and a deep sadness rises in me.
staring into the water,
at creases drawn across the surface.
Street lights flicker through waving reeds,
and a deep sadness rises in me.
Wind and water return,
the wear of a thousand tides,
stripping wood and metal like flesh from bone,
sinewy seaweed clings,
to struts curved up like ribs.
the wear of a thousand tides,
stripping wood and metal like flesh from bone,
sinewy seaweed clings,
to struts curved up like ribs.
Run aground,
on banks that twist and turn,
abandonned to the storm.
Over seven decades of rust,
a warning between the guiding lights.
on banks that twist and turn,
abandonned to the storm.
Over seven decades of rust,
a warning between the guiding lights.
The tide recedes into the darkness.
Cutting familiar channels,
but never quite the same.
Discarding stones on deep black sands,
footprints melt into memories.
Cutting familiar channels,
but never quite the same.
Discarding stones on deep black sands,
footprints melt into memories.
The sound of waves on the pier,
reminds me of your oars,
clunking back and forth a million times and more,
emptiness around you,
the horizon fading to nothing.
reminds me of your oars,
clunking back and forth a million times and more,
emptiness around you,
the horizon fading to nothing.
No lights from distant craft,
no trains along the rolling coast.
The moon guides you through unknown seas,
and shines into pools left behind,
as the waves gently move away.
no trains along the rolling coast.
The moon guides you through unknown seas,
and shines into pools left behind,
as the waves gently move away.
