Crumbing grey warehouses,
cranes and pulleys:
echoes of a lost trade of yesteryear.
Deeply pungent odour of spices,
glimpses of a spreading river,
nowhere alleys and boarded passageways,
a life that lives on only
in a store of memories
ranging back to the heyday of bustling docks.
An old man rests on a rusty partition: perhaps
he has a story of stevedores and porters,
colourful language and relentless hard work.
© Charles Jobson 2020. For permission to re-use contact email@example.com.