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The tall ships In the docklands, decaying between usages, a railway shelters weeds between its sleepers. Down to its terminus I look: corrugated factories, rusting off the shoulders of the track, line a narrow mile-long view down to Port Philip Bay, so smudged under summer’s blear I can barely see the heads. From the open ocean, a world away, a sail wings in. How I long to put to sea. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Duane J Jackson On Date: 2009-09-15 22:51:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Mark,
The call of the sea is as powerful as any known to mankind..your imagery cements your longing and impresses your reader. Very well written.
Duane.