Glasgow Memory.1968. Poem by Michael Cochrane

Walking through the old wet cobbled streets, of the saltmarket near the clyde. A man sings his heart out playing an accordion. A wee woman knitting taps her feet to the melody. Children look on with bemused faces, people sell clothes from the railway lane called paddy's market full of puddles and junk in boxes, all life is here in the raw space of poverty which operated in a place which never changed since victoran times. My memory of old Glasgow.