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


peer along the canalised banks:

and, on cue, the silver line


becomes dashed. Salt meeting sweet.

A place to cut or fold?

The sea shrugs.


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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