He looked at the painting on the wall,
then stared far out into his own past,
to a distance that only he could travel,
to a memory of working-class Belfast:
"I left the shipyard at the usual time
and looked back beyond
the packed workers' trams
to a huge scaffolded shape,
another hard day, dirty day,
but seeing the results of your sweat
made it worthwhile, a great ship,
the Titanic, always worth another gape."
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