90 STRATHNAIRN STREET (Poem)
I have a room now,
with two white curtained windows,
lined by four green wilting plants,
and three cheap framed countryscapes
above one deep backed, leaning chair
that loves to be sat in.
We all overlook the back of a school
where children scream and screech,
but only part of the day.
The rest is mine, and the mornings—
are for the seagulls.