Pontcysllte Aquaduct Wales

 
Arrow straight across the Dee
a hundred feet or so below
cast iron black and eighteen legs;
narrow boats dogs and gaudy buckets
one hand on the tiller the other with a glass
on their way to Trevor.
Committed to the shallow tank,
no turning back for a thousand feet
passed walkers on the three foot path
white knuckles on cast iron rails
wished we never started,
the sun was hot and the wind had gone
don't look down, put your trust in Telford,
once in a life-time, the end of Easter;
home to tell your friends.