The coming and going
The rise and fall
Water splashing
A sandstone wall.
Pocked-marked,
Pimpled with tiny shells
The suck and splash
The rising swell.
Gurgling and gushing
Around my feet
The harbour blue
A crumpled sheet.
White tracks appearing
Like jet streams high
After the ferry
Chugs on by.
Tobacco-brown stains
On restless kelp
Moving with
The water’s help.
And in the distance
Boats that fly
Swallowed by
The open sky.
Old High Street wharf
Where we would play
While watching ferries
Cross the bay.
And at this wharf
Wire traps were set
Watery treasures
We’d later get.
I remember Gretel
Dame Pattie too
Swaying and dancing
In our view.
The coming and going
The rise and fall
Childhood memories
I value them all.
© Jim Low September 2021
READ a related article, At the Wharf