Poet: Brian McCabe
Post Code: EH09
It
Mohammed's lovely daughter
who has been lately married
sweeps over the road
in her robes of blue and silver -
like the earth, wrapped around
by the sea and the sky.
The woman from number five
with dead hair, squint specs
- a skeleton in a raincoat,
an absence with an opinion -
says, "There's anither yin
that thinks she's It."