Harbouring a Grudge
At anchor between the dinghies
and little yachts that sun themselves
and sway to the rhythm of the waves
The Grudge is motionless.
Lying in the shadow of the sea wall, impatient
for its cargo of resentment to be unloaded
Late in the afternoon, fishing boats return
after a busy day frisking the ocean
A screech of seagulls welcoming them home.
No seagulls for the Grudge
Only an unkindness of ravens
that caw, kraa and strut upon the deck.
Angry, confused and impatient
he heads for the Harbour Master’s office.
‘Where did it come from? ‘How long will it be here?
Without knocking he barges in.
She looks up from the desk. ‘Come to say sorry?’
Realising that he had, he takes her hand.
Through the window beyond the bay
a smudge on the distant horizon.
The Grudge evaporating into darkness.