Note from the Outside

Note from the Outside

Here are busy streets of fish,
dead tower-blocks squatted by gulls.

When they dropped me off at the wood’s edge
I was stammered by green,
I was torn to rags by the silence.
I walked like a bent pin,
stubbing my toes on the emptiness.

Remember that library book about the ocean?
You should see the night sky:
its buoys and lighthouses,
its flares and shipping lanes.

From Hard Water (Jonathan Cape, 2003), copyright ? Jean Sprackland 2003, used by permission of the author and the publisher

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