an open sky, a swerve of fresh green saplings
we guide our bikes along the wooden track
a scattering of breadcrumbs reeds and bushes
convenient takeaway for
urban ducks
the buildings slowly edge back from erosion
they’re on the lookout for the next Thames splurge
jet whines, set free from London city airport
repeats the flight line of a
soaring gull
will heron nest on sculpted Man’s right shoulder
in chinks of sky caught up in crocheted wire?
and will the stranded blank eyed apparition
wait hopelessly for lighthouse
to wink back?
perhaps the rusting chunk of what was coaster
may well provide a rest for peregrine
but juddering frame signals a change in surface
and eyes and minds are brought back
down to earth
the pathway drifts, shudders of bricks and cobbles
through beery whiffs, nose prickling acid stench
and on past sickly scented coats of varnish
so sweet it makes you gag for
Thameside air
we leave behind the remnants of old workmates
their lives displayed as fading artefacts
then finally roll homewards, no more rubble
with tarmac smoothing out the
potholed past
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