Gloamin

A last keek o sun peints blue ahin the toon
an street-lichts hing like beads on roads
far the traffic breinges.

Gloaming aince fell douce amang the glades
wi hivven’s dim still reflectit on slack watter,
an bou’t trees noddin in the last win afore sleep.

But theday, tarmacadam his deen awa wi that,
leavin hard pavements for the luvestruck
tae stot on, govin at een anither.

At close o day, on sic streets, luvers traik
nae mair alane, hauden in on ilka side
by skimmerin motors an skyrie lichts.

An so the gloam draas on tae lourin nicht;
hauf an oor, an oor, syne day is burie’t
in its soor loam an aa the licht’s electric.

Forby, in howffs an taverns, the same luvers
coorie in, ettlin hauns fest roon drink, stotious
wi desire, een shimmerin wi want.

© BH, 2022

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Followin on, a lang file later, fae Foreneen, Efterneen an How O Nicht, here’s Gloamin. Another hoor of the day, still reflectin memories o Aiberdeen.