This sparkling beach of river silt, quiet and white the barge boats languidly tilted to rest a rustic wind that tastes of brine the gannets nag a rebellowing cry these spoilt natured birds hungrily hover and comb the low tide Thames
Bleached jetsam, driftwood, cork, plastic detergent bottles frayed rope, flotsam, rusted chain, emerald-green glass broken smoothed with time treated, caked in silted London clay chipped ceramic, porcelain, frayed nylon twine and rusted green copper hinges here are ideas of Caesars coins elusive treasures, lost goblets- teasing thoughts of Londinium... Roman Gallipots and galleys sunk deep in layers asleep beneath the river bed an old and rusted barge an exo-skeleton grown over with watery weeds scattered with rags and oil cans discarded rusted tools damp straw and flies
The Great Thames, smelly mother indifferent to Empires Great artery, mighty sewer of the city washing away the cities sins assuming with neglect and time our spoilt oily natures in a rising of breath and a sighing of fall singing the metres and moods of history.