Tuesday, February 04, 2014

The Dee Bore

Ancient, they say:



a Roman-straight road



bisecting lines



marking clusters



making grids.



There used to be a ferry man



tacking together the frayed edges



before this steel-edged rivet.



Upstream the city and the weir



downstream the flatlands and the face-whipping wind



home of fat-bellied planes bumbling in with high tech pollen.



The people pause



wait



peer along the canalised banks:



and, on cue, the silver line



crumples



becomes dashed. Salt meeting sweet.



A place to cut or fold?



The sea shrugs.


6 Comments:

Blogger Jud said...

"The sea shrugs." Damn, but you have a gift.

Tue Feb 04, 04:38:00 pm  
Blogger Clare Dudman said...

And you are a very generous person! Thank you, Jud.

Tue Feb 04, 07:02:00 pm  
Blogger Paul Halpern said...

Great photos & poetic imagery. Canal paths are so peaceful!

Tue Feb 04, 08:17:00 pm  
Blogger Clare Dudman said...

Thanks Paul! Yes, peaceful but with an edge of wilderness about it.

Tue Feb 04, 08:31:00 pm  
Blogger marly youmans said...

I like that minimalist narration, spare but apt!

Wed Feb 19, 04:29:00 am  
Blogger Clare Dudman said...

Thanks Marly! I like minimalism.

Wed Feb 19, 08:24:00 am  

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