Five pounds a day, pay
five pounds a week B&B; with dinner thrown in for free
and twenty pounds a week for me.
Result,
drunkenness more or less
and carousery down by the sea.

'71 long gone but ships and cargoes linger on in dockyards spent of full employment
and there is no enjoyment to be had by thinking of those bad decisions made.
Ghosts laid to rest
and memories test the patiences of greater men than I.

Where have the stevedores all gone?
Containerised,
and everyone moved on
except for me
I stand beside the open sea
waiting for the ships to come home
to old stevedores like me.