Opera House

Sitting There,
With the sea lapping at your feet,
Oblivious,
To the happy snappers.

Rising above the throng,
You seem to know,
How unique you are.
How perfect.

The boats dip and bob,
In respect,
As they tack their way across
The harbour.

And the bridge is the only one,
Not to bow.
The elder brother,
Looking on with pride.