The Flaneur has his eyes opened on Labor Day sunday
The glittering Bay
Always an escape to somewhere far-away
Some boats go out,
Many stay in port
Tenacious weeds hang on in the wind
The boats they come and go,
Come and go
They like to frisk around,
Pretend to duel or whatever
The boats come in
A mild flotilla
A mild flotilla
Kayaks head out for adventure,
Not many hikers on so fine a holiday weekend
No one walks the Berkeley Pier today
So majestic and awe-inspiring
It all comes back,
Do-gooders determined that
no one shall assume the risks involved
One finds oneself at a loss,
It will be a fine day when they find the funds and fix it,
Open it to the fresh air public and to the humble fishermen
People pile up incredulously,
A last glance from the parting bus window
6 September 2015
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