Wilderspool Causeway

On this southern shoreline, weathered signs
are falsely worn above a film of sand,
surfboards and designer clothing brands.

On rocks off the quay, close to the deep,
spot the line of the horizon, Smuggler’s Cove,
fulmars in restive dives off the stern

of Carpe Diem alone in its rust
in the wind above a herring army.
Voices on the breeze call nightly

into nothing but air
and far co-ordinates of memory.

Do transmigrating souls mix with the wind
in fixed gazes of fishermen?

You won’t find the smoking solitary man
or his flat-coated retriever in the old hotel.
This new century does admin on the recent past.

It watches itself talking through touchscreen glass,
hoping for you to ‘hit the like’ and subscribe –
hoping for some more thumbs up.