Every Road (University of Stirling)

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Wherever I go

Wherever I walk,

every road that I wander

will lead me back to you.

For my footsteps are printed

in the grass by the hill,

and the loch’s stole an inch

of my tears,

And my smile is still etched

in the curve of the bridge,

and my heart in the grey stony

brick.

See my words still whistle

in the trees and the reed

and my fingerprints curl

in each book,

And my time never ended

with a tap on the head,

with a robe a scroll or a nod and a look.

Wherever I go

and wherever I walk,

every road that I wander

will lead me back to you.

©Eilidh G Clark

Wheelie Bin Soup

This poem was published in the UOS Creative Writing anthology yearbook. It also appeared in an exhibition titled Poetry in Windows at the 2019 BIG LIT festival at Gatehouse on Fleet

green trash bin on green grass field
Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com

Nicked, frae below a strummin street licht,

The muckle great bin schrinks low to the grund.

Flashes of blue and orange snap

on its rusty armour. Half foo

it rumbles tae the fit o Randolf crescent where

the pavement sinks beneath  brae, bumpin

ower boulders ,beer cans and deed bracken. Joyriding.

It flips its lid to the moon.

And the moon slides behind a bramble

Bush, and the bush slips behind a tree that

sucks air from the shadows . Released.

Skirting the embankment, teeterin. Then nose-diving heed first,

puking a cocktails o last week’s cardboard shite

into the Bannock burn. Branded confetti drookit,

Dance around the plastic shell celebrating

a liquid grave.

©Eilidh G Clark