Quay Savours
(from Kirsty Elson’s 2019 calendar, the November image…)
Looking into the image, I felt
Like I was being engulfed by the savours
Of the small harbour, the quay,
The theatre and its unique flavours,
Its colours, its quirks and its intimacy…
The stench of fishing nets hanging to dry,
A dankness of ropes lying idle nearby;
The rotting wood of hull and of spar,
A reek of damp and varnish and tar;
The smoked pilchards in a storeroom hang,
A pipe’s tobacco infuses a fish stew’s tang;
The effluvium of drains and waste lingers,
A malodour of seaweed clings to the fingers;
The corrugation of steps stink and are rusted,
A whiff of dead crabs in dank sand encrusted…
Looking away from the images, I felt
Like I was being removed from the savours
In the neat harbour, the quay,
The stage and its unique favours,
Its legacy, its beauty and its continuity…
Pete Ray
September 30th, 2019…
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.