.
We take the ferry across
as sunlight bounces off the Tyne
looking back we see modern shapes
soften edges of decay
~ old docks resuscitated
once bursting with
fish boats and ship building
.
Toward the river-mouth
we see lifeboats suspended
on cradles ready to go save
mariners in any tide or storm
small fishing fleets anchor
close to shore
and in North Shields
a harbour continues to
offer shelter and home
to trawlers, drifters
inshore seine-netters
.
Corten steel sculptures
narrate the history
of these wharfs
~ a herring girl
holding the catch aloft
her knitting at her side
~ a fisherman at Fiddler’s Green
waiting for the souls of those
lost or wandering
he gazes out to sea in all weathers
growing a coat of rust
built of rain and tears
.
Then back again past
the nets and cable drums
the crab traps and the
fishing floats, the smell
of diesel in the air
and fish and chip
shops getting ready
for the evening rush
.
Aboard the ferry
bound for South Shields
as the vessel comes about
we notice the iconic
Herd Groyne Lighthouse
straddling the far distance
no longer needed for
it’s warning signals but
much loved as a sign
of welcome home
.
By Carys Owen
.
Written for a poetry prompt from dVerse Poetics: ‘City Love’.
Compared to my rural home on Vancouver Island,
North and South Shields in UK felt like cities to me.
.
Carys Owen Poetry 