As we slid down to the path beside the river
It became apparent that the recent weather extremes
Of May sun slamming against April greys,
Followed by the usual June rains,
Had spurred the earth atop the river bank
To pump out wild plants of all shapes and sizes
So that many yellow wild flowers crowded
Around a haze of white crowned daises
And lithe grasses with tall fan tails
Clashed with a mass of seed tipped pasture
As green spears leered at his eye line
And defied us to see clearly ahead
As we hacked our way through the vine like
Mesh that stretched across the once clear track
That meandered towards a manicured lawn
Where people usually watched the boats go by
As they tried not to slide down an incline
That eventually ended in a rusted fence
Erected by the Port Authorities to stop
The unsuspecting tourist or drunken local
From dropping off the wharf’s edge
And pledging their body to the eternal tide
Of the Ouse whereby they’d arrive
In the Humber sometime after night fall
Just as the evening jumpers plunged from the bridge
And together head out to the North Sea
And Europe’s inevitable certainty
And wouldn’t that be an awkward story to tell
In years to come when people asked after us
When all we ever wanted to do was go for a walk
To the park and back again across the gentle
Rolling slopes that hold calamity at bay.
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