troublesome flow

by Peter Humphreys

In my twentieth year
I first left you;
since then,
it hasn't stopped:
past lovers
past courage.

The docks sat low in pools of mist,
a dark grim shrug;
donkey-jacketed beasts of burden
to release the ropes, the lights,
the wind, the scents.
Slowly, noisily and with hesitation
the escape was made into
the Mersey low:
slime brown rivulet in the city side,
troublesome flow.

At last, full stream
release and awe
past city lights
and pleasure beach
into the Irish Sea.


Posted on 07/27/2005
Copyright © 2024 Peter Humphreys

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