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Revelation
All morning
the river wore a thick fog
along its length, until
a great looming shape emerged,
tall, gliding almost soundlessly
towards me, becoming the bow
of a ship parting the fog,
escorted by two tug boats
churning the water,
the deep throb of their diesel
engines sending a shudder
through the air.
The sheer wall
of the ships hull slowly passed,
tapering to a stern and trailing
a wheeling throng of seagulls
in its wake, their bright wings
catching a column of sunlight
that had suddenly broken through
the fog, freeing what was there
hidden in the unseen
to come forth into the known.
Copyright ©
Paul Willason
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