The Baltic, Gateshead © SCES 2004

Through the open hotel window, above

the river’s lulling sounds and revellers’ shouts,

kittiwakes cry, nesting on the art gallery.

I think of the oceans they have crossed

only to be here. Sometimes, when I

wake in the night, I cannot hear you breathe.

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  1. #1 by Lesley Johnson - February 3rd, 2011 at 11:03

    What a marvellous notion – these poems set at the water’s edge. I like this one the best. It sings.

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