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Writer's Guide to the North

by Sheree Mack

Fabric

March 2004

They call it home,
The bitter North East.
The peat stained North East.
I‘ve even called it home – once or twice.
On return The Tyne Bridge looms into view
A tirade of emotion invades my calm.

Home– where is my home?

The wealth here’s from a subterranean gem,
that black mass found in deep shafts.
An intense heat, cramped and dark,
reams were brought out and shipped down river.
Black clouds and man-made mountains
marked the landscape.

Coal - the ebony King
We are alike.

With cuffed knees and nappy hair,
fists clenched, I tried to catch them as a child.
“Darkie”
I’m called now by
my neighbours, my community,
my home.

Updated: 08/08/2006

Sheree image © Sheree Mack. Text and images © Sheree Mack 2004