On the far side of an evening
Of damp river grass and blinking streetlamps
Of dogs barking across the gardens
I sit and catch time in my hands

A fox slinks through the lamps
And out on the river's edge
As cats flicker under porch-lights
A wind-chime tinkles incessantly

An empty boat nudges the mud bank
As a cycle light bobs past
And above the city traffic a siren
Somewhere out of sight, out of mind

I miss your heartbeat mapping the hours
Between 5 a.m. and dawn
Your smell and taste before the light bursts
Across the closed curtains and empty cars

I would fish you out of that far city now
Pull you here through the wet grass
On a silver line woven tight
Between my fingers I'd cling tight to you

Feeling the lurch of each short embrace
The spinning flash of your eyes
Caught in that dark and matted weed
We'd tumble through the pitch black night

There are no sharks here any more
Just the drowsy glow of tropical fishtanks
The steady drip of distant music
From the disco boat's tannoy to engulf us

Dock leaves shiver with the blast
Of another crooner singing his heart out
Whilst somewhere further north blood is leaking
From another shattered chamber on to tarmac

I grip this line tighter and cling
To the safety of the known in everything
One false lunge, one hair trigger
And I too will empty myself on to the fox's grin.