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Putney at Low Tide (Free verse) by Christof

It is not wise to lean your arms On the bird beshitten wooden rail From where we watch the river bed Couch the trickling Thames in yawns. A crocodile of launches slouches To Fulham FC dolefully Like pigeon-chested kids unwilling To take the tide this Saturday. From the window of a private gym Where first eight rowers go to die A pirouetting youth with ringlets Halts his weights and gazes down When a love bird in the blossom coos Above the plash of a sleek canoe. The orange lamps appear like ghosts To hum the paddler to his rest.

-=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. 11-Sep-02/3:30 AM
Dare to dream, Christof! Dare to dream! One day, you'll get to sniff that leotard. And when you do, you too will know the sweet smell of Victory.




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