Old stone steps lead up toward the street.
To one side, beyond the ship, a cluster of barrels lies silent in the darkness.
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On the pier, in the shadow of the embankment, it is
dark, an inky dark like the water itself.
The ship is tied here.
It rocks gently in the river,
not eager to be off, not determined to stay,
calm and compliant, waiting for your hand.
Old stone steps lead up toward the street. To one side, beyond the ship, a cluster of barrels lies silent in the darkness.
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