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There Is A Boat Down On The Quay

There is a boat down on the quay come home at last.
The paint's chipped, the sails stained as if
Time's pissed up against them.
I imagine the sea routes it's followed,
Sailing through the world's sunken veins
With its cargo of longings;
A little boat that's nuzzled its way
Into the armpits of forests,
That's sliced through the moon's reflection,
Through the phosphate that clings to the lips of waves.

I knew its crew once,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Sally Spedding 10 October 2019

Just wonderful. Not mere description but vivid abstractions. Genius.

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