Atlantic Crossing

The quayside terminus belched steam and passengers
Parallel rails yielding to a dipping sea
A black iron cliff rose, majestic

Pockmarked with perfect rivets
Covered gangways swayed
A mysterious Rubicon

Corridors splayed in labyrinthine luxury
The Purser prowling imperious as
White jacketed stewards scurried, in service

The band bade godspeed as we slipped horizon bound
Lips mouthing, hands, hats scarves waving
Streamers billowed from cheering crowds

Tugs screamed to wrench the Leviathan
From its moorings to Solent water
Fire hoses arced in wind tossed spray

Remorselessly, the prow cleft the surging swell
Aft the frothy maddened wake
Lay momentarily, trace of our passing

Quoits rasped over polished decks
Grey shadows surfaced then sank
Eternity stretched endlessly

For five days no object checked our passage
The moon, stars and sun our celestial waypoints
Watched by whispering crests

The solid line on a misty horizon
Defined our destination as surely as
Brooklyn Bridge

The cradle of the oceans arms released
Her thankful charges
Into the Manhattan cacophony

Three funnels smoke
Rising above the teeming waterfront
Sketched a fleeting farewell

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