I Wrote A Poem While I Waited Out The Rain

Keep me, corner, tethered
to the cracked ‘n cobbled dock,
upon which winds my narrative
in mist-haze morning fog,

whilst a-whence these breeze-
waves river from – cliff spire –
sings out ‘n tells of hour bells
‘neath th’cloud-hid morning fire.

Under the patchwork canopy
that catches falling rain,
I feel I’ll find that off my mind
will send me on again…

But beyond this sculptured edge
I know not t’where I’d head.
The river spills out to the sea
and’s by the currents led…


Image credit – Torsten Reimer

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