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Dockyard lights glowed in the evening haze of steam and low cloud.
Rust coloured clouds, almost self luminous hovered like stingrays.
The iron walkway overlooked the dredged-deep dark river port.
But if we owned a car would that make us better?
Who knows what will make us better these days.
The wind caught the river, pushed forth waves.
Light rain started tit-tat-patting on my hood
as we walked along the riverbank.
That boat there! If we run now we can catch it
Up stream to the next stop,
He said, running ahead, beer bottle in hand.
Skuttling along the corniche’s wet shiny stones.
We skidded onto the jetty and jumped onto the commuter boat.
The walkway lifted up behind us
Like an ancient drawbridge.
Engines rumbled, safety lights pulsed far into the distance ignoring the mist.
Away with us!
Up deck to splash deck we we climbed.
Wet hands grasped on brass railing; yelling, smiling all whilst that wind began howling.
None but two mavericks on this vessel,
Rubber souls gripping to chequer metal floors.
The captain, a solo figure above us in his glass gallery,
Windscreen wipers clearing the tears,
Emotionlessly dutifully sailing and steering us up the olde river
As we waved to him (and the twinkling city) from below without response from either.
Who knows where we’ll get off and what opportunities will arise
Or when –
But when we do let’s walk further instead of waiting for a slow bus to arrive.
Tonight, tonight till late we’ll drink, talk and roar till we figure it out:
Those hidden clues and deeper levels waiting to be found.
Then we’ll grasp those opportunities –
And wonder why we ever shared those fears!