A rusting girder intersects
the partial view. From here
you’ll glimpse the city’s underside: a web of dreams,
a net of solitudes
that leads you on and out
past rotting wharf still waterway
a darkening centre
where no light intrudes.
Not new, but one day soon
the stilted city will decay,
the whole thing sinking
back into the sea.
Till then the place
exists between two tides.
The city floats on its own dream,
tilts to the source, subsides.

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