Lonely and pale on the muddy bank
Of the silver February river
There was a single broken sliver
Of old Agivey brick.
How had you arrived there?
Not placed nor dropped by a passing load,
You must have come from within the Bann
Where, sunk and silent deep below
Its mirror top, you began
To erode.
Shunted slowly down the stream
And churned and picked and worn
By the passing fish and flow
Until the thickening rains and rising flood
Raised you up and laid you out
A pale orange, worn down sliver
By the side of the passing river.
Of the silver February river
There was a single broken sliver
Of old Agivey brick.
How had you arrived there?
Not placed nor dropped by a passing load,
You must have come from within the Bann
Where, sunk and silent deep below
Its mirror top, you began
To erode.
Shunted slowly down the stream
And churned and picked and worn
By the passing fish and flow
Until the thickening rains and rising flood
Raised you up and laid you out
A pale orange, worn down sliver
By the side of the passing river.
