Watching The Wear

Watching the Wear

The sun’s shining bright
its sparkling reflections upon the river Wear,
makes glaring upon the water a rare sight.

For some strange reason
I’m wearing a jacket,

I know that it is sweltering hot, though.

My right leg is crossed over my left giving-
a slight muscle pull and a sharp tingle in my toes.

I just watched little boys and girls,
kindergarten ages, in baby blue polos-
and ashy grey skirts, trousers and pinafores,
run past me along with their teachers.

Two fishermen, one on either side of the river.

They wait patiently for their catch,
I’m waiting patiently for Julian and my dad.

I’ve only been in Sunderland for 2 hours,
but my ears have tuned into its ambient sounds,
the roaring rustic metro, the buzz of the double-deck buses,
the clanks of modern construction, the Northern English accents and-
the low deep flowing tone of the river Wear.

I am anxiously waiting to see my own town of Bradford.

Adieu!