Last of the Marinas

Every buoy splurged on river
Navigation has been banished
From the kingdom. Each marina
With its wealth of wharves has vanished
From the planet altogether.
That's the tyranny November
Exercises over northern
Tributaries and their subjects.
Every now and then, though, rebel
Forces float insurgent objects
Through its net, some diehard rowboats
By a dock perhaps, just turncoats
To prevailing arctic winds but
Not to neutrals in the background.
We observers love just causes
Even when we know they're icebound.



copyright 2002 Gregory Perry