Hangin’ over the bridge, peeking for broon trout,
too warm for your gansie the day.
Bin bags filled with water
splitting their sides,
laughing at her Arbroath joke
about soup.
Gas mantels, flax seals, the Troubles, bingo wins, trainee beekeepers. Being scunnered, trees, jokes about wind, photees of the Tay rail bridge. Culverts and herons, a mallard, the Ferry, pulleys for the washing. Grandchildren, comics and songs and the plastic cable ties that sometimes dinnae work.
Stories,
friendship,
the burn.
Cheerio.
dominique cameron 