Friday, 13 August 2021

Efterneen














A file yet
till gloaming,
an the streets

still full of fowk
in boorachs
afore the day

gaes tae its rest
wi a thoosan ithers
haudin haufs an gills

couped ower tavern boords,
letterns o thirst, pulpits cryin
sermons o hansel on the nicht

an the en o anither warstelt day
till the bars an howffs skaill at sunblink,
wi a green cast o nichtfaa, on the roads,

still rattlin, full o fitstaps an late-on sangs

syne, a kirkyerd daurk faas like a drape
an lays its bleart hingins ower wynd an close,
happin the rantin lauchter in its faa.
© BH, 2021

I started wi a poem ca’ed ‘Toon’ an syne it wis ower lang, ower bittie. So, I made it three -‘is poem an twa ithers - Foreneen and Howe o Nicht

I wis myndin on Aiberdeen as I screived it. Thon wis a lang file back.

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