Along the riverbank

 

Mechanical giants stand motionless under soft skies, as the tide slowly sinks to mid stream. 
Seagulls gather to stare at the retreating water, looking for titbits in the river mud.

From the barrier wall, tormented souls glare at unassuming passers by;
silently screaming their pain to anyone who will pause and drink in their despair.
                           
                                  

The devil is in the detail, overwritten with with the thoughtless scribbles
of those who leave their tags as a dog leaves scent trails..

Whilst round the the river's bend an iron fist reaches out 

to be noticed, remarked upon, remembered.

Sulphur smoke from twisted chimneys punctuates the darkening sky

as down stream, dock lights guide the weary towards safe harbour, 

and the setting sun finally sinks behind the industrial heartland.