Liverpool

Illustrated by Samantha Fulton.

The sky is burning orange in Liverpool
As I wait on the cobbled harbour.

The shape of Birkenhead,
Sharp and backlit, 
Traced like the black-winged birds
Thumping the air,
Traced like the shadows 
Of the couples standing beside me
Who find their own view
Of this withering horizon,
Where grass plains were once coated
In reeds waning under gales,
Before stone and steel sunk into sand.

A weight falls through my knees,
A longing to hold on 
To this massive impermanency.

But I am set to go.
Set to go and find the next memory.
Set to let it slip from my mind.