Afternoon after afternoon, I rode past the old ship, I regiled in the memory of her being refloated after sinking in Greenland dock in Surray Quays, and being placed in this rotting yard. We can all count our blessings that the wood will return to the earth, and the rest can be dumped somewhere in a ditch, or a land fill.
Propped up on stilts like a drunk leaning on a parking meter, she lay’s in the afternoon sun, this discarded boat, shall sail no more.