As we are drifting towards Johnsmas, dear Simmerdim, a single glance in the harbour awakes senses: world flags, hulls and accents colour every inch of pontoon. Bollards become multi-lingual... Cultures are mooring in Shetland.
Wood versus carbon fibre
It doesn't really matter... Rivets and gps seem to get on very well together.The island has always been accustomed to maritimers of all kinds, from fish merchants to buccaneers :)
The many tones of this earth side remains a magnet for this sense of togetherness, fraternity found inside the safety of the harbour... The very roots of the real world.
Nil Desperandum [LK235]
Where oceans meet at either end,
I hear gannets on earth background.
You’re resting there,
keel lost in kelp, bare to shingle –
dark within light before
my lens,
so far away
from Scalloway or
Lossiemouth.
“28 years…” old Jimmy said,
tongue filled with pride,
he never lost faith on starboard
or your portside,
as he rolls black against
your hull.
How many ghosts,
pulls of the moon,
scales caught in nets?
Their heartbeats echo on deckboards.
You’re just leaning against this wharf,
like an old lass at her window…
immortalised by a young friend
who looks at you
in light sepia.
Nat, Lerwick, 20 May 2008
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