Early Morning Cigarette – Callander 2011
Standing outside the Dreadnought Hotel,
mist is hanging between Earth and tips of Craigs,
and the just discernable trees with pointy fingers.
In a hazy-blue sky
clouds are like tiny pink petals of roses.
A lady is smoking – laboriously,
she tells me, she fell heavily onto
the pavement the night before.
Her lower teeth are loose.
I point to the beauty and mystery all
around us – she agrees.
I tell her how I had heard
the night before, an owl hooting
in the stillness.
Later, I know
I will hear, beauty, mystery, laughter;
in Sally and Ian’s bookshop,
as many poets read their work.
But for now we smile;
and I return to the breakfast-dining room.
First published on Sally Evans’ blog 2011
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