Poetry by Siobhan Logan

ANOTHER NORTH

You went away from us once before:

I remember those curtained evenings

when we clambered onto the big bed

five of us snug as a litter of pups

to hear your letters read.

'Standing Room Only,' was how you described

that tumbling boat riding the swell.

Afterwards tramping around a red-bricked town:

even without the 'NO IRISH' signs, you were advised

you'd never rent ‘with a lock of children’.

So you doubled up on shifts instead

to p...