The Scotsman talks
Of the year they went
To the Royal Opera House
To see My fair lady
They chink their glasses
Of chilled white wine
As if to say cheers
Or something even more celebratory
My tea is now stewed
The earlier freshness
Has declined considerably
Probably due to listening in to other folk’s stories
Reverse order
After being caught out
With no pages left
Going forwards
So I turn around
As I turned around before
When life had left me
Dwelling in space
The church clock chimes
As you might hope it would
At a quarter to the hour
Or round about then
A seemingly inquisitive man
You know the sort
In brown corduroy
Gets up and goes indoors
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A poem
Clouded by a play
A play
Shrouded with intimacy
Into love
Walk together
Into life
Stand apart
Into time
Never closer
I was quite determined
You also perhaps
Having given to me
Your telephone number
You also had shown determination
Going up to London to see an old flame
Yet you returned
To invite me onto the dance floor
