Poetry Map of Scotland poem no. 4: Govan

Honeymoon in Govan

My Granny honeymooned
in a single-end
in Govan.

She recalls this like yesterday,
Blue eyes twinkling,
Wet with remembrance.

A husband she has mourned
longer than lived.

She wore a knee length dress,
Silk fabric, of tiny proportions
that she passed down to me.

She told me they spent all
their money
on a photographer.

They walked to Govan
from Pollokshaws
hand in hand.

She said,
they wur the best two days ai ma life.

We smile,
our eyes, simultaneously drawn
to the picture
of the happy couple,
at the side of her bed.


Nicola Burkhill

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