Lunchtime in Leith
Georgian hauteur and fort insularity
They don't welsh on the image
Outside the Port O'Leith bar.
Blue smoke rings thought marks
As designers in digital dagger by in stilettos.
And the walls of the bond crate 'creativity'
Not the case and the cask
Of crystal-bound claret and raw high land spirit
The vapours of leaves, ochre in sun
And rain, pulled through granite.
Mingled together, a session for angels
Drift through this unbroken code.
Munificent municipality, the essence of mix.
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