Snow On The River (Iii) Poem by jim hogg

I saw you once in Janet's Lounge
in how you flicked your hair
And for a moment we were on
the Town Hall's sandstone stairs

back when it looked like we were bound
to join the chosen few
I touched your arm and spoke,
and when she turned it wasn't you

I scrawled our names in stone upon
the seawall at MacDuff
I thought the end would never come,
but stone's not tough enough

To stand the blast of wind and wave,
that took the love we had
Somewhere between the Sandhead shore
and fading photographs

I watched your plane come gliding down
from north of Anniesland
your name was in the vapour trails
as if by your own hand

You threw your arms around me there
as everyone looked on
But I was just a refugee
from someone else's song

An Islay piper stopped and played
Loch Rannoch just for me
I saw your eyes in shadow as
I stood there on my knees

We crossed the line of madness once
when whisky set us free
Forbidden fruit that called so sweet,
we knew could never be

The notion we've lived other lives
makes little sense to me
yet somehow we connected then
as if we'd always been

We hardly spoke, we hardly touched,
we often turned our backs
On something deep that seemed to break
the laws of time and chance

I heard you once in springtime babe,
down where the bluebells spread
Between the White Loch and the road,
in words we left unsaid

In purple perfumed haze down there,
I traced the scent of grief
It wasn't you; just thoughts of you,
upon a trembling leaf

But sometimes you're there everywhere,
I'm sure you know it still
we could have been, as we were seen,
but not for lack of will

Our good friends tried to keep us tied;
for that I'm grateful too
But there were walls that wouldn't fall,
and so I ran from you

Now memory's too swift it seems
to fall behind for good;
Portpatrick isn't quite the same
but still stands where it stood.

For years I thought you'd crossed the sea
and checked the stars each night;
though not a sign was ever seen
you were never out of mind.