Thu. Feb 25th, 2021
Port Melbourne

The ship loomed overhead reaching the sky, ropes the size of a large man’s legs coiled around gargantuan cotton reels. The child stood beside Father’s comforting knobbly knees and thin hairy legs, breathing deeply, savouring the ephemeral scent of the wharf. Father loved that scent too, at least the child presumed that was why they revisited the ship every time it docked. They had lived on that ship for six long weeks, rolling side to side, shelves emptying, and dinner sliding off long communal tables, emigrating, seeking a new life. Ever since the child has loved the sea.

CJ 2020

By CJ

Who am I? I am different things to different people. I am a poet, a visual artist, a sculptor of found objects, and a writer. I am a bookkeeper, an office manager, an administrator and software support consultant, even a short-order cook and barista. I am a parent, a grandparent, a sibling, a cousin and a friend. I am a traveller, a technophile, a philosopher and a student of all things.

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