This is a poem
made by her hand
a poem of marks
you can read
left to right
right to left
any which way
an ascemic script
it tells a tale
late in the day
beside a river still
sunlit clouds vast
in a Maytime sky
down on the mud
and shingled shore
these found things
arrived at her feet
as they do when
waiting for her
dear hand’s touch
upon their metalled
forms rusted and
rivered by the daily
tides the diurnal
wash and dry of
weather and watered
river mud-coloured
beside boats bedded
in the river bank each
plaqued to remember
thirty wooden boats in all
that plied a river’s journey
there and back once
to and fro now
charged up high
on Pulton shore
a motorized trow
a top-sail schooner
Edith and the
New Despatch
steel and concrete
barges Severn Collier
and Mighty Monarch
lying hard into the silt
a yard at rest
a grave of vessels
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 11:41 AM UTC
This is a poem
made by her hand
a poem of marks
you can read
left to right
right to left
any which way
an ascemic script
it tells a tale
late in the day
beside a river still
sunlit clouds vast
in a Maytime sky
down on the mud
and shingled shore
these found things
arrived at her feet
as they do when
waiting for her
dear hand’s touch
upon their metalled
forms rusted and
rivered by the daily
tides the diurnal
wash and dry of
weather and watered
river mud-coloured
beside boats bedded
in the river bank each
plaqued to remember
thirty wooden boats in all
that plied a river’s journey
there and back once
to and fro now
charged up high
on Pulton shore
a motorized trow
a top-sail schooner
Edith and the
New Despatch
steel and concrete
barges Severn Collier
and Mighty Monarch
lying hard into the silt
a yard at rest
a grave of vessels
Pulton is a village beside the River Severn in Gloucestershire, UK. To see the graphic sketch created from objects 'found' at Pulton boat graveyard see: http://instagram.com/p/yuGrLvKtEy/?modal=true
Request permission to use this poem