Against the Current
In twilight and stained water
A lump of stuff
Drifting, turning in the current,
Snags for a time
On the branches that seem to lean out
For the sole purpose
Of snagging drifting, turning lumps of stuff.
Just a short pause
On the long slow, drifting, turning journey to the sea.
Just time, perhaps,
To peer in mild curiosity, vague alarm and, perhaps, dismay.
Whose loss is this?
That the river has claimed and the branches can do no more than delay.
Edward is a lecturer and writer, mostly on business and politics. He often posts twittaku (double haiku in 140 characters) on Twitter, plus the occasional political limerick.