The Humber

It’s wide arms embrace the banks,
of northern counties that eye each other suspiciously.
Only when I see it’s girth do I feel at home.
Mighty estuary, like the tides, my emotions ebb and flow.
It’s undercurrents replace the sandbanks,
concealed daily changes unseen metamorphosing,
opaque and inviting under the turbid foam.
Dark river holds dark secrets that deceive down below.
From Spurn to source they seek to embank,
sparing the clay, groynes or barricades tides confining.
The river was breached from those from Rome
And dirty old steam packets long gone too we know.
A single suspension spans the banks,
linking nervous neighbours that nod courteously.
Alongside its cold waters I am never alone,
its gifts of dark favours on me bestow.

Linda Prince