Poetry

The Whales at Coledale Hospital

The whales roister along the sea-line and the scarp creeps down from yellow-cocky country to be near them. Among the ferns the big houses huddle— luxurious, with great melodious verandahs facing east and full of bells and sirens. These whistle and toot and warn us all that whales are nigh; we hear the message passed along the bay and rush to see our monster friends. All very cosy … but also— there is the hospital, a long straggling building hugging the cliff and full of self-recuperators, like me. One sad day I lay on my bathroom floor, brought there by…

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