Tuesday Poem: On the Road Again

The Ferry out of Hull

Leaving the sea loch
crammed on the rail like
hungry gulls, to watch
lace fractals at the edge
of the wake, the curling
vortices of salt and mud
in the back-wash of the ship's
propellers, churning us out
of port onto the heave of the
ocean towards a grey horizon
curved to a formula
we've learned by rote
but never understood;  the
slippage of air and sky, the force
that keeps the water, ship, us
from levitating into space,
the wormholes in the eddies
of time we're about to vanish
into as we inch towards
the edge of all we can see.




By the time you read this, I will probably be somewhere in Europe, on a road, heading for home.  I wrote the poem on the ferry - a piece of description really, just trying to describe what I was seeing.   The Mandelbrot sets forming and swirling at the edge of the ferry's wake fascinated me - I've never seen them happen in real life before.  Terrible photo from small point and click camera doesn't do justice to it!

There's one line in the poem I absolutely hate 'wormholes in the eddies of time', but will alter when I get back to base and have time to edit. Too busy driving at the moment!

Hope you aren't too busy to pop over to the Tuesday Poem hub, and check out what everyone else is posting.