Dreich
it’s best like this
on grey days
roundabouts in rain
lamposts framing a slate-sky
a bridge
doused in mist
buildings blurring from
trees
and it’s thrilling
as if everything is in repose
like a wet afternoon
at home in front of
overcomplicated
televised word-games
anyway, we shift our tiles
by the amber glow of pints
in the pub
a raft in the clouds
Roddy Shippin is from Edinburgh. His poems can be found, although they tend not to be – he tires of all the tedious cutting and pasting.