Saturday, 28 November 2020

Three bridges again

 and fish and chips, again, while delivering minor but permitted aid, in these trying times





Friday, 27 November 2020

Walking free

Here I am walking in darkness again
this time in the city and past the high and lit up windows of a gym
where a hugely obese man is pacing ponderously slowly on a machine
while I am just walking on a waterside path
And a beautiful slim woman is running up there on a machine
fast and, like the man, expensively
while I am just walking, for free, on my path
her glossy golden hair waving alluringly to and fro with her bouncing bounding
while my own hard hairless head is just carried along on old shoulders
cosseted in a black woolly hat
containing wet warmed thoughts of the loss of my youth
as I am walking onwards on my path
until I meet a drunkard slumped in the alley where he usually is
with a dark bottle protruding from brown paper in this hand as there usually is
and where he usually mumbles something incoherent at me
as he does again today
probably a request
but I just continue on my way by walking on my path
past the church, the pub, the café
none of which attract my custom
as I turn
walking back past the drunkard, just slumped and silent now
past the beautiful woman still bouncing on to nowhere
and the big fellow still struggling to walk on a machine
as I ponder the expensive fees displayed on a lower window
and wonder if a modest modicum of beer might be worth purchasing
for later in the evening
as I walk on for free, on my path
leaving the fat man, the slim woman, the drunkard and the city
to get on with their everything without me
after I have headed in to lift one bottle from the big store’s beer shelf
and then kept walking homeward on my path
...and now, quietly drinking, as I write

Monday, 23 November 2020

The unmindful moment

Now, walking,
grainy pavement below
Oh, memory, walking to school
Lesley ahead, I better walk slow
She is so beautiful
But we are twelve years only
Oh, pavement meets road
Stop, memory leaves me lonely
Heading to shop
Thinking now of store where I worked
aged fourteen
Looking at girls
to whom I am unseen
Ah, green light, cross the road, old man
recollections as I go of my life that began
65 years ago, give or take,
or 66 already when the fetus started to make
Oh, beggar ahead, what a shame
Or is he a scammer, or himself to blame?
Dark now, so dark in November
Here is the shop
Why have I come?
Oh, I remember
Beer, paper, butter, bread
How do such memories get stored in my head?
Walking in aisles
Thinking of nerves
Electrical waves,
while heading to the lady who serves 
and here's what she says:
“Hello, how you doing?”
“OK,” I say,
looking at her with my mind far away
Packing, credit card, swipe, goodbye
That fleeting exchange of the glance of an eye
Walking slowly, pavement grey
Mind flicking memories of so far away
Why do they come so,
those memories that mutter?
Nudging me back to my lives as another
Go now, be gone
Please leave me, be done
I just want this moment,
as my nowself, alone

Wednesday, 18 November 2020

Sunday, 15 November 2020

Henry's Coffee House...

 ...cheered me up with its ambience, and warmth, and coffee, just when I was feeling somewhat gloomy, for no particular reason, or perhaps I should say for a variety of foolish reasons that I really need to learn to view from a more appropriate perspective. It proved an excellent place to read the newspaper, let my mood mellow, despite the news, and pretend that I fitted in amongst all the young professional types. There was a very long-grey-hairy and very long-grey-beardy man just out of shot who was clearly much more ancient than me, however, or had endured a significantly harder life. Perhaps he was looking at me and thinking gratefully that I was helping him to fit in.


The rain outside was relentless, as the mental fog and cloud lifted somewhat, inside.

Saturday, 14 November 2020

Edinburgh day and Queensferry dusk

 



We ate fish and chips in the car, looking out at this view, as we often do. A simple treat.