Wandle by Jenny Middleton
Between concrete and a straggle of bank
River Wandle glides, bruising weeds beneath
to a floating, shimmery green mane.
Sexy numbers and who sucks dick
noisily jostle a run of corrugated fence
and always there’s a murky, rogue,
perfume filling the rippled air.
Pylons and the electric
hum of trams cut
their cadence at the bottle-broken,
tracking to London the water works
a memory of disorganised summer,
splashing, punching and treading
the green-greyed stone sharp bed,
the black sheen of rats watching
quick from dank weeds
with the knowing that we shouldn’t.
These days the fish are back.
@2020 Jenny Middleton
Jenny Middleton has written poetry throughout her life. Some of this is published in printed anthologies or on online poetry sites. Jenny is a working mum and writes whenever she can find stray minutes between the chaos of family life. She lives in London with her husband, two children and two very lovely, crazy cats. You can read more of her poems at her website https://www.jmiddletonpoems.com