Derelict Drifter
(Circa 1965)
As each season shifts,
your ribs reduce
by hand of nature
and of man.
Beached on the river bank,
down from Town Hall Quay,
where once the Scottish Fisherwomen
gutted your shoals of herring
captured from the sea.
The old young drifter
returned to find no trace;
a building in its place.
Were you buried
beneath the building,
or like me,
removed from that place?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beached on the river bank memories remain in core of heart. As each season shifts, we perceive many things. This is an amazing poem brilliantly penned...10