October 11th Poem by Sheena Blackhall

On your birth day
You were met with a halo of hellos
A flock of blue cards fluttered on the bedside
The days flowed by like a mumuration of starlings

Today girls from the red brick house
Throw sticks to an old pit bull
A student jogs along
His lycra running shorts as tight's a drum skin

In a side ward of the geriatric wing
A patient wheezes into an oxygen mask
His veins stand proud's the Ganges tributary
At the harbour mouth, frisky as ocean lambs
A pod of dolphins play
A pregnant girl buys tins of reduced price beans

The rain falls down like nobody's business
And I hang my head in despair
Like a wet umbrella dripping from a hook
It is your birth day. You're not here to enjoy it.