Juliet Wilson Poems

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(Morecombe Bay February 2004)



Grey skies, cold and bitter wind

a share of a damp mattress

in an unheated room.



You follow orders from the brother

to the man who let your cousin die

in a truck approaching Dover.



Your parents wait back home

with nothing but pain and a photo of you

smiling through the English rain.



Shells held to your ear

murmured promises, but they are empty

here in devil’s beach.



Treacherous sands shift

impossible to know where is safe

where will suck away your life.

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