The city lights burn bright
on the clearest of nights,
bathing the city in a dull hum.
High up in the dark sky
a star drifts by, casting one gentle eye
over the city below.
(Now that the scene is set,
you can start to wonder
if this is a city close to you,
or if smog has closed out the true view
that the country reveals.)
We walked along the clydeside
hand in hand
talking of wishes, dreams and hopes –
such is the folly of youth.
That was then, this is now.
Four years later on the same kind of night
History repeats itself:
the same old walk,
The same old talk.
Dreams tend to stand still as life accelerates
we’re older now, more mature.
We sit in bars; drive in cars
keeping the future in full view.
Where will it take us, my love,
what can we do?
The city night is artificially bright,
obscuring the future with its spectacle,
while the wind sweeps down the alleys,
Streets and vistas,
Blowing our pasts from our paths.
The cold nips at our fingers
Just like time nips at our fates,
scaring the living hell out of us.
Soon the sky scrapers high lights burns our fears away.
Later we make it home – smiles all around –
Fresh from a refreshing stroll along the river’s edge.
We disrobe, get warm and grab a cup of cocoa
as neon flames dancing on my window ledge.
Much like a city our hopes are evolving,
Our dreams pulsate and shift in the throng
In the traffic.
And even though time gets us
in the end,
I don’t mind
As long as I walk the streets with you.
As an aside, I got some stuff published today. Check it out here: http://glasgowtosaturn.com/currentissue/poetry/