2nd Trilogy III

God Dunfermline is depressing
but maybe its the light
of a dying day casting
grey against the houses -

there's always a driveway going
past the squalour and the dark
to a house laid out
in a country park fringed
with green

enhancing our losses
and our lack of luck
but the bus sweeps on regardless

heading to the coast
and a cute, but well-off
mediaeval town -

we are all stuck
where the tide throws us
up in a storm

and some of us stay lost
and never get back
where we came from

and are never warm again
sluiced by the water
of our past, hurt

by the things we've seen
the things we can't lay down

previous poem

next poem