Portsmouth
A city in ice and snow, ships
dormant in the foggy harbour.
Dull hulks of worn out factories
float, from the motorway
they are men-of-war, carriers
on mud, left by the tide.
A bombed out destroyer moves north
through the harbour for repairs,
the city drones on, smoke screened
froa surprise attacks. Perrenial
cemetery of carbon black trees,
a museum of houses. At sea
the marker lights falter,
every few seconds time stops.