Estuary (of tears and tide)
End of the river,
the opening sea,
patterns of grey
and silver,
clouds upon
the face
of skies,
smiling infinitely,
as light connecting
bridges, reflecting,
slow ships,
slip sides,
of channels,
squiggles
of rivers,
and steel
straight
lines
of canals,
crooked docks,
reaching,
stretching cranes
and harbours,
patches
of green,
yellow
and brown,
tapestried
industrial landscapes
in between,
the crouching grey
of towns,
and between
concrete fingers
of smoke,
of light
and pollution,
a million people
are living
their lives,
as hurrying
ants,
with their gods
unseen,
whilst below,
deep,
and deeper
again,
below,
is the ebb
and flow,
of forever time
the wash
and fade,
of tears
and tide.
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p1964km@googlemail.com
