v. and think on the days to come. | 1906
This next part happened further down the line,
As I live and breathe here, now.
Twenty years gone by.
A surname still shared.
A workplace passed down generations.
A voice lingering in the shallows.
He died today.
And Beachley sits still
back from an easy trip to Gloucester.
With a Guinness below deck,
a cracked voice sings in the heart of Bristol:
This is the centre of the world!
Was for the man who grew up on Joy Hill,
was for the man who ran away from his Dad
and whistled the whole of his life.
was for the man who watched me, as a boy,
mimic his movements as an old duffer docker,
was for the man who rested with me
every other eve, eating corn.
Telling stories of the glory days,
the ones before I were born.
Here’s a sip for you, old man,
in the depths of the vessel that carved you.
though it’s changing, pa… it’s all changing.
And the fights aren’t as far and few.
This is home, this barge.
This has to be home, this barge.
This will always be, till the day I die, my home,
this barge // this home