I don't post my poetry often, indeed I don't write often, but I thought this one came out OK. Written over the past weekend for a good friend on the occasion of her birthday. Edinburgh, first draft, 01/05/2010 for andrea. Was it in Summer, when I lost myself among the graveyards? The moss covered steps of Greyfriars green and gleaming. Or was it someone's winter night along cobbled streets, where buildings wear a sharp puritan cut to their overcoats? ... (more)