Sunless in North Shields

by Syd Peck


It’s painful when the sea wind drives rain into the eyes at the end of Yeoman Street, where I waited so long for that girl in the yellow raincoat, who never came.

Seagulls mocking down distant streets of Utrillo roofs and closed doors. At her absence I became an empty sack of strength. Instead of a warmth of yellow and an inspiration of kisses, there was only a solitude of tears.

I squinted against the rain, and the whiff of fish, and the sunless world. Rough tussocks  sloping down to the murky Tyne. Row of houses huddled against wind and spray, sprouting  mushroom chimney pots with jagged edges like jester’s hats.


Inspried by What Pegman Saw prompts, North Shields, UK

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