I toddled up the glen the other day,
for the first time since sixty-seven,
past the grassy bank
beside the shallow burn,
where men in white vests lay,
alone or in pairs,
perhaps in threes,
smoking and joking and sleeping,
while bare footed women,
in sleeveless floral cotton frocks
and sang together,
and made good things
to eat and drink.
For instructions on how to submit your own poems, click here
All poems from our Poetry Map of Scotland are subject to copyright and should not be reproduced otherwise without the poet's permission.