There was nothing cold about it.
The vitality in its veins moved in time with my blood pressure.It was always so.
There was fire within its walls
from the start, since the first sod was turned.It flows all night.
There were ashes glowing
as I flew in and slipped back to nest
inside the city
where strangers become mates.
It will be told.
There’s a world washed by fresh water
flooded by émigrés from Earth.
O River Thames,
tributary,
you’ve nourished us all.
From Bath to Cork with baby Grace 