This is a sequel to the earlier post. :)) K xx

THE HOUSEBOAT REVISITED


Last time, it was in scorching sun,
shorts and T, running barefoot through
the oncoming ripples of ankle-deep, clear
water which seemed to go on for miles.

Catching fresh scent, my dog veered off,
headed back towards the houseboat and
disappeared from view. Rounding its corner,
I saw her sniffing at belongings, mounds piled
high below the houseboat’s ladder steps:
there were deckchairs and crockery,
pillows and plants, tools and sawn lengths
of carpenter’s timber.

The door off its hinges, the windows flung
wide, and the cabin was rustling on its slimy
stone piers, pulsating with rhythm of refit.

We circled the buzzing hive, promising a return.
I saw us meeting with the owner – me with
a poem, him with his seascape. Seated on
the time-rotted deck, we would take tea and
share: him his canvas, me my painted words…


Today we went back, hugging the shoreline,
slithering on soaked pebbles. Past porthole-
rim of my saturated hood and through water-
lashed fronds of my fringe, I saw the houseboat
revamped with its new-constructed storm porch.
Inside, glass-framed and snarling, were two
yapping terriers being shushed by a woman,
their little shark-teeth white-glinting and bared.

My dog and I walked dumbly past, waded again
out into the shallows, to the sandbar where we
played. She laughed and bounded, edging me
backwards, forcing me deeper. Away.

I kicked up a cascade and I smiled.