Watershed

A poem about two dinghys moored to a jetty - one very old , one very new.

Your place has been engraved
into the very foundations of your existence.
your lineage shared but shaped in a different
time by the architects of design and decree.

As you rocked to nature's lullaby
the harshness of your ties
wore away your freshness.
The loquatious lapping,
children clambering, launching
into liquid laughter, held you captive

Your buoyancy butteted the flimsy
facade of progress.
A shallow replica of your predeceasors,
shone on the moonlit surface,
hollow echoes of a childhood past.