In the Mist of St Heliy

There is a plastic hand clinging
to the corrugated roofs of the warehouses
and in the distance a crane
is partially submerged in morning mist,
a lonely horn sounds and the
town cats have all gone to bed.

The steep slope of granite steps
lead to somewhere and nowhere,
the ferry in the distance sets sail,
we used to wave from the harbour
but neither of us are sailing these days
and I wish the mist would clear
just to reveal the mystery of us.

I wonder if someone will claim the hand,
they say the roofs are unsafe
but at midnight on a full moon
the cats are gallivanting
and the rats in the eaves
scurry forward and back,
they're not bothered by the mist
I'm only troubled by the lack of clarity
and lights echo shadows
on a misty morn in St Heliy and memories of you.

Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 781 times
Written on 2016-10-28 at 20:05

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This poem is an excellence. You capture the reader's attention with the opening lines, and sustain it throughout. And I love the word "gallivanting"!

Melancholy. I recognise a place in my past, love the first two lines of the second stanza.

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
This is great, Elle. It really puts across the sensation of a foggy morning.

Christopher Fernie The PoetBay support member heart!
Dear Elle,

I love the industrial romanticism of this poignant piece; it sent goose-bumps down my spine. See you on the quay?

Cheers, Chris