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.

 

 

 

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