A boat
the long house
ironic that
as it was more
a cramped and stubby
corridor.
Our boat
twenty eight foot Sam
renamed L’Atalante our ocean in a can.
“Retreat?” “Floating cottage?”
“The Cotswolds?” “What about the Fens?”
Let’s invite friends…
Love boat
a romantic sort of iron hug,
an island in still water
our rub-a-dub tub, cabin love
cramped and grinning, snug boat,
a Valentine’s Day afloat.
[…]
Then split-up
happened
as split-ups often do
she sought a shared-boat
compromise
I said No!
The split-up stuck
I bought her share
stretched the metal can – it grew…
she and me,
we stayed sep-ar-ate
cut in two.
The split-up done
Bruised Autumn, frozen Winter,
welcome Spring, the Summer swelter
the boat became a shed, retreat, a shelter
a metal lung, a breath away from town
my boat now, evolving slowly over time.
Water Shed 