Sonja Broderick - Dock

Echoed yelps of joy
still stretch this aging wood.
The river runs under,
eddies twirl about
the groaned supports,
down from the caps
that flood the town,
the melt of a maturing season.
A hidden history of
boat scuffs mark
last Summer’s happy days.
The mooring sways
in an impatient flow,
knows more boats will come.

Sonja Broderick

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dock/