Friday, October 17, 2014


Three drams of whiskey down and the north bridge starts to lead south
three drams again and not only would the trams move, but also the city
Edinburgh and its lit streets and monuments, of old, historic value or of newly weaved cashmere scarves
soft, tender is the shape of the clouds as they walk overhead in tune
to a wailing bagpipe and the hustle of a sharp northern wind-
a wind that resembles ice, yet softly nudges music into the ears of the passerby
awake, wrapped in a coat, or half there and half elsewhere
his core at least isn't present
and he could only blame it on the powerful Scottish.

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