Night in the Caravan

              CARAVAN: NIGHT

              Outside we may be surrounded
              by near-parked vans on a rainy
              car-park of hard macadam,
              or alone by a polecat haunted wood
              a field away from the line to Crewe -
              up to our corner-steadies in mud
              on a wind-lashed coastal strip,
              or locked in behind the railings
              of Knowlsey Safari Park -
              But wherever we are
              when the sun has sunk
              and the last cup of coffee's been drunk

              Curtained from the world
              Inside the inside
              All life -
                     wife
                     children
                     dog
                     self

              breaths speak
              quietly

              before the dawn babble breaks!

              © GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Heckmondwike, 1st May 1984

Unpublished

Mornings

              MORNINGS

              Always I find
              the downstairs curtains
              partly drawn -
              tell-tale paw-marks
              on the glass;
              my son, rising five,
              early riser,
              finds his way
              down dark stairs;
              his family still sleeps;
              atop the settee,
              warmed by the radiator,
              he looks out at the street,
              searches the sky for planes
              Manchester-airport bound.
              I've been good, daddy,
              he says;
              it's nearly not dark, dad,
              it's nearly morning.

             ©  GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Heckmondwike, 2nd February 1982

Publications


1983 Poetic Licence (UK)
1988 Pennine Ink (UK)