Quayside
Empty streets
rat on daybreak revellers
cast canned from party dreams -
out – staggering down by the river.
Smashed glass, shiver-litter
rustling in the dawn.
Lost notes flutter
from pockets and handbags,
coins down drains.
Bonny lads taxi home in time
to face the music, if at all.
Hand-holding denied the
light of day, hidden under mobile lies
blanketed with blown kisses -
patted with I love you too hinny,
see you soon.
And rough sleepers clutch
dew-damped feathered bags
to their chins; Fed Up graffiti
benchmarks their beds whilst
blackbird notes compete
with cormorant cries, kittiwake
carols to burst the bridges into day.
Air split, lives lived,
on the banks of the Tyne – life
travels to a new day and songs
of drink and Geordie jeopardies,
generous with seasoning,
peppered, deepen the flow to the sea.
