poor pier

At 1am this morning October 5th  rather an auspicious date  for locals at least. Something good might come from something that seems difficult now!

Pix taken early morning and some months ago. Unfortunately, it made a rather beautiful vision this morning  . . .

 . . . . if sad.

The far end was originally a ballroom . . .

The banner seems now rather poignant!

In its heyday in early 1900’s – built in 1872 and 910′ long.

Being briefed . . .

 . . . and turning back to look again . . . locals went off to work.

After that hot gospeller has levelled all but the churched sky,
I wrote the tale by tallow of a city’s death by fire;
Under a candle’s eye, that smoked in tears, I
Wanted to tell, in more than wax, of faiths that were snapped like wire.
All day I walked abroad among the rubbled tales,
Shocked at each wall that stood on the street like a liar;
Loud was the bird-rocked sky, and all the clouds were bales
Torn open by looting, and white, in spite of the fire.
By the smoking sea, where Christ walked, I asked, why
Should a man wax tears, when his wooden world fails?
In town, leaves were paper, but the hills were a flock of faiths;
To a boy who walked all day, each leaf was a green breath
Rebuilding a love I thought was dead as nails,
Blessing the death and the baptism by fire.

A City’s Death By Fire by Derek Walcott