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Harbour's Roll

Streets of stone and slap of sea,
rising prow, deep dip of oar
The harbour is waking, rolling
A fine fog slides up Tyne and Tees
Call at the inn, the beer's dark and deep,
the streets shiny slick
The step's hollow is hobnail ground
A hand-cart rattles, a boy calls
Sails fill, ropes flick
Step lively, men
We sail at noon
oldgolfer
Written by oldgolfer
Published
Author's Note
A harbour in the South island of New Zealand
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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