Over head I watched, from the crane
A bony old feral foundry cat fleabane!
Swaying like a shipman, in the rigging.
He too was all at sea, he even glancing...
Gave an over the shoulders look at me...
The boson turned rat; neglecting duty!
Moved slowly; and sadly, purposefully.
Hard-times had befallen this foundry!
And that cat; ship tossed, drunkenly.
Sailed home too deaths own dignity!
Under a salvo of falling “hammer blows”.
Thundering out;
Eva Brother’s fiery, dying meows...
Prow-turning, no room to manoeuvre...
Crow’s nest; watching as for a, harbour.
It turned, facing the sheer red rocks
Entered her brick walls of hard knocks...
Never to appear again on the horizon
Was this feral foundry cat that boson?
Comments
Denzella | January 20, 2012 - 07:44
Hello Mark Heathcote,
A very sad poem but it was really well written and I like the analogy with a ship's rigging and the crane.
'Sailed home to death's own dignity' was for me the stand out line.
Thanks for sharing.
Mark Heathcote | January 20, 2012 - 14:15
Thank you ((Denzella)) I read your home page?
And if you really want constructive critique then try here?
http://www.criticalpoet.net/forum/
Post Poems for Mild Critique
Post here for mild, but honest, critiques and suggestions.
Post Poems for Critique and Revision
Post here for objective, honest critiques and suggestions. (Not for the thin-skinned).
Thanks again Mark :)
The Edit never works on ABC for me its so annoying!