
~
In the swirling mists of a bay dawn
The Spirit of Tasmania drifts regally into Station Pier
Loaded with expectant tourists
Pouring over the railings
Longing for first glimpses
Of Melbourne
Rising on the coastline
~
There’s a small glow of cream and white walls
Reflecting the growing sunlight ~
The odd palm or two
Strangely etching
A kind of protest on
The ribbon of
Relentless
Seaside roadway
~
But the odd dolphin
Usually dancing a greeting
Through peaceful blue waters
Is nowhere to be seen
In the swirling
Murky mists
Of rising mud
~
