Barefoot In Whitley Bay

With shopping trolley full of purring heads

(pet sitters still a distant folly),

we tripped, flipped to the track              

that would roll us up

to the Spanish City.

 

We took over a carriage, us

and a family of mam’s strays-

freckled kids and tabby cats

on our way on the Metro

end of the line, by the bay.

 

St.Marys’ bright house paints

lazy cirrus splashes on the sky,

my over extended family

in a fifth hand caravan,

I never wondered why

 

our shoes would not appear

till just before the first school day,

 why we would feast on stolen fruits

when other kids had vinegar soft chips

I only knew that this was me,

barefoot in Whitley Bay.