Hot Shot; Grain Wharf across 8 Dock

out here

it’s cold out here

the western winter wind shudders the water across the bay

reflected harbour lights roll and sway

singing songs in the ship canal

songs of cold comfort and material expanse

how the neon ribbons dance!

it’s warm in there

back in the land of the living

the fireside glow unfolds and beckons

giving off a mood of warmth and life

denying the toil and strife

of a difficult day

being back in there!

there’s no other way

should we be bold and ride the cold

and enjoy the brash reality of feeling alive ?

look!

the night heron dive, collect and re-group

sleeping swans bob

salty tidal soup changes every hour by every light

innocuous, inviting by day

ominous by night

it’s cold out here

let’s stay a while longer

let’s watch how distant lights flicker

how a thousand November lives live out their evenings

people hugging through arrivals and kissing out leavings

see how distant townships throw out light-shows that wink in the Pennine breeze

through the immediate pain I sense ease

the ease of civility in motion

feel the freedom of exposure

of nowhere to hide

it’s cold out here

let’s go back inside