It is hot enough to melt hearts
It is hot enough to melt hearts
Toughened by loss and broken promises
River water stands still
Too tired to be stirred,
Mud unfiltered
Clings to the banks, turgid, storied,
Steeply inclined.
American crayfish signal their intent
To plunder the Thames out from under
The old Englander
Thunder reverberates over Westminster
An old duck wearing Chanel
Blinks back tears.
She carries souvenirs of London in a holdall
And can still remember the blitz
It is why she came prepared
To take refuge underground.
She was a mudlark in the old days
She found a brooch on a sandbank
Down Limehouse way
And sold it for a fortune.
She found a man and married well
But then lost him in the fog
Of fifty-two.
The clean air act
Came too late for him,
Too late now for many
If the climate activists are right.
Not that she worries
She is in no hurry to leave
The Southbank
As she likes to watch children
Playing on the sand at low tide
Waving at boats and barges
It is when she remembers
Her father was a lighterman
Though the times may change
Some things never do.