
John Short
Seagulls
Abersoch
We laughed at my father
as he scanned the sky
poking at his packed lunch
under its plastic cover.
Gulls screamed high up
and beyond the cliffs
the elemental sea crashed
and swelled for ever
in conversation with itself.

John Short lives in Liverpool and has a tiny flat near Barcelona where he sometimes goes. His poems have appeared in places like Envoi, Prole, The High Window, Poetry Salzburg Review, London Grip and Barcelona Ink. He has a pamphlet Unknown Territory (Black Light Engine Room 2020) and a collection Those Ghosts (Beaten Track Publishing 2021) and is a member of Liver Bards and Chester Poets. He blogs sporadically at Tsarkoverse.