Benjamin Posted March 6, 2013 Share Posted March 6, 2013 The berthing master's bell clangs: lock gates open to the river. And through rips and swirls of the racing spring tide, a battling tug finds refuge. With it comes branches and logs from storm battered trees: two carcasses, one a sheep, the other a pig; pink-- and swollen with bodily gases that make it appear human. Lock gates close: and as waters rise there are angry shouts at the gangly man, probing-- with a long boat hook, who punctures the pig. And those on the nearby pier reel back at the stench as he mouths-- "Okay!.... the child's not here!” Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tonyv Posted March 13, 2013 Share Posted March 13, 2013 A tough situation captured in a well composed poem. I feel it. There's not a word out of place. Tony Quote Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dcmarti1 Posted March 16, 2013 Share Posted March 16, 2013 Some striking images. Did not expect that ending. Almost unnerving. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Benjamin Posted March 17, 2013 Author Share Posted March 17, 2013 A bubble of thought which re-surfaced in the early hours as I recalled my youth.. and when I stepped out with the harbour-master's daughter. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
badger11 Posted March 17, 2013 Share Posted March 17, 2013 Well-structured and visualised B., though I haven't decoded the reason for detailing the sheep. badge Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tinker Posted March 18, 2013 Share Posted March 18, 2013 Eeewwww! Benjamin, Your imagery is mezmorizing, pulling me further and further down until the surprise which takes this from a good poem to poetry. ~~Tink Quote ~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~ For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Benjamin Posted March 18, 2013 Author Share Posted March 18, 2013 It was not uncommon to witness animal carcasses coming in with the high spring tides.. though there was an accepted practise that if they found their way through the lock gates and were bloated, they were to be treated extremely carefully. One of the saddest moments of my early life was seeing a five year old boy floating face down in a lock, having wandered off from his nearby home. He'd fallen in when no one was around, couldn't get out and drowned. I was eight at the time.. flying home-made balsa wood and rubber-banded aeroplanes.. a Saturday morning treat with my friends. One flew close to the lock and an older boy raised the alarm... I'm creeping up to 70 now and still think of the life and times that small child lost. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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