As usual,

Three days to go and the tears fall

She stands alone in her sorrow

I stand alone in mine


This scented Autumn wind,

It never blows through the streets of Glasgow

The gentle twilight that warms the hills above Lochranza,

It fails to get past the well guarded borders of Pollok


Three days to go

Till our neighbour’s noise

At three in the morning

Seeps through the flimsy walls and enters our

Blood, our thoughts,

Our sweat stained sheets,

The dreams of a child


Our love has long since gone,

Dissolved in stress, exhaustion,



I hear myself plead with her,

“Three days to go. Enjoy what we have left”.

Her salty tears are joined by the cool drizzle of an Arran evening


Passers by enjoy the,

Drops of saffron paint that have been thrown across the sky

To illuminate the grey speckled clouds,

Hardly notice the two unhappy visitors


Somewhere in the woods, an owl shrieks.

Out there, a common seal darts between the dancing seaweed, deep in the dark sea.

One wave outreaches all the rest, trying to splash a child,

Who is, diligent in her task


The child sits on the rocky shore looking for gold

Examining each stone with care,

Gold is hard to see in the half-light.

The woman knows exactly how loud she can cry without the child noticing

The only clue she gives away is, the constant redness in her eyes


As a stranger

I watch her pain

My prayers can do nothing

My wishes can do nothing

My words can do nothing


Three days to go




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